


My Eyes Wide Shut

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Angst, Bondage, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Clubbing, Coming Untouched, Consent Issues, Couch Sex, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, For about 5 seconds don't get your hopes up on that one, Human Shiro (Voltron), Keith is in too far and he finally admits it, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master/pet in names only, Mind Control, Morning After, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Telepathic Bondage, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampires, Window Sex, accidental hypnosis, essentially
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: When it comes to his meals, Keith is notoriously picky.  Clubs provide a perfect opportunity to get someone alone, but this latest choice seems to be a total wash.Until he sees Shiro.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written on request. The working title of this fic was: How Keith Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Succ.

This club was a waste of time.

Keith leaned against the wall near the bar, just outside of the chaotic press of bodies looking for drinks.  It was 11 on a Friday, which meant a lot of the patrons were nicely drunk and well on their way to hammered. At least one person had snuck in a vape or something, because there was a smokey, sweet taste to the air.

It made Keith want to cover his mouth with his shirt and walk out.

Really, it was a shame.  Keith had picked this bar strategically, but it looked like it was for nothing.  He should just get over himself and pick a target. But Keith was annoyingly selective, even to himself, and no one had caught his eye yet.  There were plenty of attractive men on the floor, but none of them  _ drew _ Keith the way he wanted.  None of them made his mouth water and his heart pound.  None of them made the effort of interacting and pulling them worth it.

His plan had been good.  This gay bar drew in an older clientele than most in the area, which were overrun by college kids with real and fake IDs.  Keith fit in nicely, slender and conventionally attractive, but his quiet demeanor and dark scowl kept most everyone from approaching unannounced.  Once in a while he got someone daring, but a sharp word was enough to send them scampering.

It was perfect.

Except Keith couldn't find the one he wanted.

His next meal.

Keith's fangs scrapped against the inside of his lips, and his stomach rumbled hungrily.  It had been several weeks since his last indulgence, and he could go another few before he was desperate enough to just grab a lone, nighttime jogger or something.  He was only part-vampire, so he could afford to take his time and be choosy.

His mother always rolled her eyes and said that Keith was going to push too far some day.  He'd get hungry, then he'd get sloppy, and he'd end up having to haul ass and move away to avoid discovery and a hunter at his door.  According to her, he was careless.

It hadn't happened yet, so Keith didn't pay the warnings much mind.  It wasn't the messy ones who got caught anyway, no matter what he'd been warned about.  As long as a body wasn't completely drained of blood, no one usually checked to see if a pint or two was missing.  No, the idiots who got caught were the ones who stuck around too long. The ones that put down roots and developed a pattern.  

Keith wasn't that stupid.

He never kept an apartment for longer than a single lease.  If he attended college courses, he transferred often, and only took one or two classes.  When he got a job, he didn't go to the parties, and he left within a year. Just a weird, unfriendly guy.  Quiet, but not suspicious.

It was much easier to maintain that facade when Keith could get his damn  _ meal. _

He took one last look around the club, already fed up with the flashing lights and loud noises.  Clubs were great for getting someone to a private location without it looking strange, but they were such a  _ bother. _  Keith didn't like dancing, he didn't like the blaring that passed for dance music the past few decades, and he didn't like drunk people.

All he needed was one person to make it all worth it.  But Keith had struck out, so it was time to go h-

Wait.

Keith shifted along the wall, head tilted as he tried to see past a particularly insistent pair of men demanding drinks with increasingly ridiculous names.  Just beyond them, he saw another man get up. The button down he was wearing strained to contain his shoulders and chest. Only two buttons were undone, but it was enough to make his collar gap open, exposing the long, powerful line of his throat, connecting to the sharp jawline.  His hair was white -- not platinum blonde, but purely white -- and a jagged, thick scar cut across his face.

It was just a glimpse before the man was blocked again by the patrons heading for more drinks.  But that look was enough.

Keith had found his quarry. 

Combing his hair into place, Keith casually worked his way closer.  He didn't approach, not yet. Not until he was sure. But for the first time all night, his fangs extended and his hands ached to touch.  

It wasn't sexual.  At least, not mostly.  It was like reading a menu and finding  _ exactly _ the dish that would hit the spot.  Even if he didn't know what he was craving, he knew when he saw it.  Right now, this guy seemed like a winner.

As Keith traveled through the writhing mass of dancing, drunken bodies, he got his second glance at the man.

This time, it was in profile.  The man stood, on the edge of the chaos, clearly waiting for his drink.  His eyes were on the bartender, which meant he didn't notice Keith's intense stare.  Those shoulders were powerful but unguarded, the hands large but relaxed. His posture was perfect, even though there was a flush of alcohol to his cheeks.  Not drunk, but not untouched, either.

Good.  Keith didn't like drunks, but he liked the aftermath of drinking.  It made any confusion the next morning part of the experience, and not anything to investigate.

This man was a relaxed predator.  Handsome, graceful, purposeful. Perhaps not in his natural habitat, but he felt in control here.

Most importantly, he didn't look like some dumb, Alpha-wannabe dudebro, and he didn't look like a fawning idiot.

He looked like someone Keith would have to work at.  Someone who could put up a fight if the mood suited him.  A challenge, but one Keith could overcome.

His greatest weakness.

Keith licked his lips, both out of hunger and to make sure his fangs weren't extended past his lips.  Then he started to casually circle his way in, stalking like a wolf through the woods.

It wasn't until he was closing in that the man turned.  His eyes instantly locked onto Keith, and his head cocked to the side, curious but not surprised.  He either noticed Keith earlier, which would be impressive, or felt his stare. For a moment, he clearly evaluated Keith, eyes flickering up and down.  Then one eyebrow went up in question-- Are you coming for me?

Well, no one had ever accused Keith of being indirect.  So he shouldered his way through the last few people to side up next to the man.  "First time here?" He asked, voice raised to be heard over the music.

"Why?" The man asked, lips quirked up.  "Do I seem nervous?"

Keith took advantage of the question to look his quarry over again.  His eyes first locked onto the exposed neck again, tantalizingly displayed as if to tempt Keith in particular.  Then he looked at the tight grip the man had on his glass, and how he leaned slightly away to rest on the bar, casual but prepared.  How, despite being in the middle of the crowd at the bar, he managed to seem isolated.

"Not nervous," Keith said finally.  "Just evaluating."

The man's brows rose, and he raised his drink in a toast.  "Good eye." He looked Keith over one last time, then finally smiled.

It was like getting to watch the sun rise again, without prescription sunscreen and heavy shade.  Warm, bright, and managed to take Keith by surprise.

A meal had no business having that pretty a smile.

"I'm Shiro," the man said, still smiling easily.  "What about you?"

"My name, or if it's my first time here?"

"Both."

Keith smiled back and stepped in closer, using the shifting bodies behind him as an excuse.  "I'm Keith. It's my first time too." He leaned against what little of the bar he could manage and met Shiro's eyes directly.  "Part of me was hoping, actually. You look how I feel."

Tilting his head, Shiro met Keith's gaze easily.  "How's that?" 

Keith blinked deliberately, turning on his thrall in the pause.  For now, he kept it low, subtle. No need to turn the guy into a mindless, drooling mess in the first second.  That  _ would _ get him in trouble.  

After a beat, Keith's smile widened.  He was careful to keep his lips together and not show anything out of the ordinary.  "Like this place wasn't what you were hoping."

Once again, Shiro paused, clearly caught off guard.  He took a long sip of his drink, giving himself a chance to think.  "It wasn't," he finally admitted ruefully. "You're right. When it's been a while, I always tend to think of clubs as more interesting and fun than they are."

"Like they are on TV?"  Keith nodded, his smile softening.  "Maybe that's what happened to me too.  I forget how loud and dark these places are until I'm back in the corner."

Shiro let out a soft chuckle.  He finally broke eye contact, but his cheeks were more flushed than before, and he seemed to be relaxing further.  "Same here. I have friends who go to these places every other weekend, and they're always telling me to give it another shot.  And it sounds reasonable until I'm here." He looked out into the dance floor. "Especially when it's been a while. Everyone else seems to know what they're doing and what they want.  And I'm sitting at the bar and hoping it shows up for me."

"Maybe it has."

Brows up, Shiro caught his eyes again.  This time, his smile showed a little too much teeth.  "You think so?"

Keith stared back, then offered his hand.  "I think I could be, if you're willing to try.  Just one dance." 

Behind his eyes, his thrall activated and locked onto Shiro.   _ Just one dance.  Just one dance.  _ The words would stick in his target's brain like dripping honey, coating the mind with the sweet taste.  Nothing suspicious, nothing weird. Just enough to make the idea a little more tempting.

For now, anyway.

Shiro only hesitated a split second before taking Keith's hand.  He threw the rest of his drink back and shook his head at himself.  "You know what? Sure. Might as well give it a shot." He let himself be lead out onto the dance floor, flushed and excited.  "I can't remember the last time I've danced, actually."

"Me neither."  Keith never came to these places to  _ dance. _  Normally he talked to his prey just long enough for the thrall to make them suggestible, then he dragged them to the bathroom to eat.  A few mouthfuls of blood was all he needed for the next month or two.

But Shiro made Keith want to play more.  He wanted to toy with him, really get the thrall under his skin.  Give it time so it all seemed natural, rather than just wiping his memory and letting him think he blacked out.  He wanted to watch this big, confident man melt until he was begging and eager. Wanted to take him down until Keith owned him, devoured him.  

Keith wasn't one to play with his food, but today he was willing to indulge.

"Don't like it or don't get the opportunity?" Shiro asked, practically shouting to be heard over the music.  He used the hand to pull Keith in close, not quite flush but certainly hinting at it. Despite the intimate pose, he seemed casual, still just playful.

Brows up, Keith shrugged.  "Dancing isn’t not usually my favorite, especially not at clubs," he admitted, yelling just as much.  "But why not?"

"Why not!"  Shiro agreed, outright laughing.  He put both hands on Keith's hips and started to rock, more akin to a slow dance than the bouncy, repetitive electronic music called for.  

They weren't the only pair staying so still on the floor -- several people were openly grinding in ways that were only different from sex due to the layers of clothes between them.  But their relatively quiet movements made Keith feel more confident. He wasn't going to be asked to hop around or flail his arms to some dropped bass.

Keith put one hand on Shiro's waist, curling in possessively.   His prey was objectively handsome, and he didn't want anyone else trying to get ideas and take away his meal.  The other curled around the back of Shiro's head, dragging it down until they were forehead to forehead, eye to eye.  So Shiro couldn't look anywhere but at the source of Keith's thrall.

"This is what I was looking for."

_ This is what you were looking for. _

The honey sweet suggestions soaked in deeper.  Keith was someone fun, someone who made Shiro feel more comfortable in a disappointing environment.  To leave would be to go back to being awkward. 

_ You want to stay. _

Shiro's lids drooped, and he answered Keith's gesture with pressure of his own.  "Am I? Good. Because you're exceeding my expectations, if I'm being honest."

Which wasn't what Keith had been suggesting.  No, it was even better.

Keith licked his lips again.  He loved the look in Shiro's eyes right now, aware but a touch lethargic.  The first sign that the thrall was sinking in, becoming a voice in Shiro's mind to guide him along.  "You dance, don't you? Your footwork is good."

"We're barely moving at all," Shiro said, laughing again.  But he kept his forehead pressed to Keith, looking deeply into his eyes.  It was intimate, to stare for so long. Their breath mingled between them, and Keith could see each individual line in Shiro's brown irises, turned different colors by the flashing lights.

He wondered if Shiro could see the hint of red to his own.

If he would care if he noticed.

If he could begin to realize the predator he was holding.

_ This is normal.  This is good. You like this.  You want more. _

"Is that a no?"

"It's a yes."  Shiro smiled back.  He barely seemed to be blinking as they spun in slow, easy circles.  More than one group or couple had to suddenly change course to avoid hitting their calm little bubble, but Shiro didn't seem to notice.  Their close faces blocked out the worst of the flashing lights, instead becoming halos of color behind Shiro's head, tinting his bangs with each flash.

_ You don't have to worry.  You don't have to think. Just enjoy this moment.  Just enjoy us. _

Keith ran his fingers through Shiro's hair, petting to help encourage him to relax and let the thrall sink in.  The buzz on the back rasped pleasantly under his fingers. "It's nice. I can feel the pattern of it. One, two, three, four."  He counted off with each step before they repeated again, continuing their comfortable circuit.

"Yeah, sorry.  You're right. That would be me."  Shiro gave a rueful smile, eyes distant and wistful.  "I took classes as a teenager. I loved it, but when I went to college I didn't have time anymore.  And I just never picked it up after."

It was silly to feel bad for his meal, but Keith found himself sympathetic.  He'd given up on so many passing interests over the years. It was hard to keep up lessons or appointments when he was constantly moving around.  When was the last time he'd painted or picked up a camera?

"You're good," Keith said, working his fingers in a little harder.  Now it was less petting and almost a massage, and it wasn't even for the thrall.  It was just because he wanted to. Keith wanted to touch the soft, buzzed white strands, wanted to see that hair messy and fisted.  Wanted to see what Shiro could look like when Keith yanked his head back by his hair and exposed that warm neck. "I like it. It's better than I would have expected, dancing at a club.  I feel like I'm learning something. One, two, three, four."

_ One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four. More relaxed every time.  Calmer, content, listening. You want to just listen. _

Shiro blinked slowly, like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.  But his movements didn't slow, keeping up that same perfect rhythm. "Don't lie.  You knew these steps without me showing you." Despite his words, there wasn't an accusation to his voice.  Just amusement.

"I've had occasion to learn. Nothing I would want to repeat, but you make it nice.  I usually had something I'd rather be doing." All true, amusingly. Keith dragged his hand down to cup Shiro's cheek.  "What about you? Why'd you stop? College was busy, but what about now?"

Shiro blinked again, then stiffened.  Tension seemed to crawl up his back, ruining all of Keith's careful work.  "Work is even busier than college," Shiro said. "I work odd hours, some weeks.  I end up coming home and crashing. I usually spend weekends catching up with what I meant to do during the week.  The perils of adulthood, I suppose."

It was easy enough to read between the lines.  A salary man being worked long hours, probably underpaid and unappreciated.  Barely time to eat, then up again the next day for more. Sucked of energy and enthusiasm better than a dozen vampires could manage.

Keith had heard the same story over and over.  Usually he had to fight to roll his eyes. He remembered 12 hour factory workdays, after all.

But Shiro wasn't complaining. He was just explaining, and the very act of thinking about it was destroying the warm, loose spell that Keith had weaved.  No wonder Shiro had come out to a bar -- he was looking for an outlet.

All the better for playing with.  But no good if Shiro was going to stiffen up and talk himself out of this.

_ One, two, three, four.  No need to think. Just listen.  Just relax. Just let me take over. _

The words, quietly whispered by the gentlest of thralls, made Shiro's shoulders crash down.  Their rhythm faltered as Shiro stumbled and stopped his gentle pressure on Keith's hips. It only took a second for Keith to switch up and lead instead, which Shiro followed without seeming to notice the stutter.

Oh, Shiro was  _ sensitive, _ wasn't he?  Someone to take away his worries was exactly what he'd been looking for.

Another tale Keith had heard before -- the big, confident man looking for a guiding hand until they didn't have to think.  Someone powerful enough to push Keith away, to fight back if he wanted to. But instead he'd melt into Keith's hands and willingly offer himself.  A sacrifice that extended their own neck.

Keith flashed a smile, not even bothering to hide his fangs.  Shiro's eyes were still locked on his anyway. He'd never see it.

"Well, then I'd better make this special for you, huh?"

Shiro blinked, coming back to himself a hint again.  "It's already special. This is nice. I didn't expect anything this sweet."

Poor little lamb.  He thought Keith was being gentle with him.

"You're worth it."

True again, just not the way Shiro thought.  But Keith still basked in another one of those sunrise smiles, then let them fall into compatible silence.  Just dancing in slow, calm circles. Just taking control, letting the tension drain back out of Shiro.

Eventually, Shiro was practically slumped against Keith, stumbling like he was too drunk to keep dancing.  His fingers were loose on Keith's hips, but clung with just a hint of need. Of desperation. He  _ wanted _ this.

It was time.

"Let's get out of here," Keith said, low enough that no one could hear.  Not that he cared, but he was enjoying pretending the rest of the club didn't exist.  "You look like you could use fresh air."

"Fresh air," Shiro repeated back, a hint slurred.  "Yeah. Fresh air. M'need it."

Keith backed off, letting his fingers slide down Shiro's cheek as his hand dropped.  The way he leaned into the gentle touch was entirely gratifying, and more than a little cute.

He slid his fingers between Shiro's and gently pulled him toward the front.  The bouncer at the entrance barely cast them a glance - just another drunken couple wandering out.

Continuing on, Keith ducked down the nearest alleyway.  It was plenty private enough for this, and away from the constant noise and lights of the bar.  The bathroom was normally enough, but Keith wanted Shiro a little more to himself.

Shiro looked around, curious as to their new surroundings.  But when Keith drew him forward by the shirt, he went along happily.  Keith tugged him until they were flush together, his back to the brick wall.  Then he looked up at Shiro's flushed, eager face. He looked so  _ happy _ in that moment, and so eager to please.  "You're adorable. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Nose crinkled, Shiro considered.  "I don't think so."

Okay, Keith needed to pull this back.  The guy was cute, but this wasn't about that, no matter what Keith's eager dick said.  He was a  _ meal, _ not a fuck.

But a fuck was what Shiro was here for.  Keith had never thralled him to  _ want _ sex.  Just to relax and be agreeable.  Shiro had come to this bar with the purpose of getting laid, then going back to his life.  There was no reason Keith couldn't indulge him and get his meal. 

Shiro would believe he'd drunk too much and had a quick fumble in the alley.  Some physical evidence would sell the lie better. It just made sense. Covering his tracks.

"What do you want?" Keith asked.  It was half honest, half thrall. His job was easier if he knew what Shiro was looking for, after all.

Shiro pushed in closer, until they were utterly flush.  His eyes darted to Keith's gaze, then down to his mouth.  "You."

Cute.  Someone had to have said it before, because Shiro was an adorable little pet.  Surely someone else had managed to bring this out of him, when Keith got here barely even trying.  Even so, he turned the thrall up more, eager for more of Shiro’s enthusiasm. "You want what I want, don't you?"

_ You want what I want. _

Shiro nodded, eyes still on Keith's mouth.  "Yes. I want what you want."

"You'll let me do anything I want, won't you?"

This time, the nodding was faster, more eager.  Keith wasn't sure if it was the thrall or just Shiro's natural inclination.  

"Anything."

A sudden, impush thought came to Keith.  He looked over Shiro’s flushed face and half-lidded eyes, eager and so like every victim in a corner vampire novel.

Why not indulge?

In his many years, Keith had never bothered to play with the tropes humans assigned to vampires.  His encounters had been too swift to bother, usually. But now, in the chilly air of early October, the thought stuck.  It didn’t hurt anyone, and it was kind of funny.

"Call me Master."

There was a blink, and then Shiro smiled. "Master," he said immediately, as if that was Keith's name.  He simply was Master.

Unexpected, the name sent fire through Keith’s veins.  It wasn’t the power itself so much as ease of Shiro’s acceptance.  That was how deep Keith was into his head -- what would normally be a strange, sudden request was treated like Keith had just corrected a mispronunciation.  Now this man was openly, happy calling him Master without realizing why that might normally be strange.

_ So _ sensitive.  Keith's instincts had been right on the money for this one.  He hit the spot just right.

Grabbing Shiro by the front of the shirt, Keith pulled him in for a kiss.  He didn't bother to hide his fangs, betting that Shiro was far too gone on the thrall to notice or care.  There was the slightest pause, but then Shiro leaned eagerly into the touch. He opened his mouth to Keith's tongue and moaned when the fangs caught his bottom lip, tugging.

Keith burned.  His blood lit from within, like the warmth of Shiro's sunshine smile was infusing into him and transmuting into hot arousal.  The soft press of lips against his own drove him on, making him want to sink in his teeth for the sheer pleasure of biting and to see what Shiro would do.  

It occurred to Keith, far too late, that it had been months since he'd had sexual contact with someone else.  Hiding his vampirism from a mundane human was a pain without the liberal use of his thrall, and finding another vampire was even more difficult.  Almost all the ones Keith knew were essentially family at this part, old friends of his mother who could more easily be called 'uncle' than anything else.  Keith was even more picky with his partners than his meals, which made for a solitary existence.

So here he was, bending all his rules for this one stressed, sensitive human.

Keith's mother had been right.  He'd denied himself for too long.  Got pent up, and now he was being stupid.

In the moment, though, Keith couldn't care less.  Not with Shiro moaning so eagerly into his mouth, pawing over Keith's chest like he couldn't get enough contact.  He let out a ragged, reedy moan that went straight to Keith's cock.

Shiro was desperate for it.

Which made Keith want to indulge him.

One time.  Just one time.  Keith had already decided a little fumble in the alley was alright.  So long as he washed his hands of this after, he had no reason to worry.

Keith put his hands on Shiro's shoulders and pushed him firmly away, then held him in place.  Shiro immediately stilled, mouth open but eyes wide. His gaze darted over Keith's face, eyes to mouth and back up.  It wasn't hungry - it was worried.

Shiro thought he was being pushed away, like he'd gone to far.

Like he was the threat here.

"Aww, puppy," Keith muttered.  It came out more condescending than he'd meant it to, but Shiro didn't seem to notice.  He was just such an eager pet, and when he worried like that Keith could all but imagine a tail tucked between his legs.  "I just want to see that pretty face."

Shiro's eyes lit up.  He licked over his lips, which were already swelling.  Keith could practically hear the blood rushing up to the surface, and if he tasted him again, he could probably feel that thumping heartbeat.

Tempting, but no.  That wasn't where Keith wanted to drink from.  It was wasteful at best.

"Take off that shirt," Keith breathed.  It would keep that nice button down safe.  Blood on skin could be sucked off, but blood in fabric was far more dangerous.

Besides, judging by how the buttons strained to stay closed, it would be a damn nice sight.

Shiro nodded loosely, eyes still glazed and happy.  "Yes, okay." 

But when he started to undo his buttons, Keith's hands shot out, stopping him.  His own heart pounded, pushed on by the sheer thrill of what he was doing. "Yes, what?" Keith demanded.

"Yes, Master," Shiro said.  A deep flush bloomed over his cheeks, except where the scar dug through.  His lips quirked up and his eyes seemed to glaze further.

Shiro  _ liked _ that.

The rush of power nearly knocked Keith off his feet.  The desire to keep playing, to keep tasting that sweet submission.   Keith had dripped honey into Shiro's mind to lure him in, only for it to spill back out and catch Keith in turn.

No.   _ No. _  Keith wasn't stupid.  He knew better. He'd just moved into town barely a couple of months ago, and he wasn't about to uproot himself again so quickly.  Not if he could help it. He would contain himself, and he would get his meal. A quick blowjob in the alley, and then Keith would walk away and never come back to this bar.

One taste was enough.

While Keith fought himself down, Shiro obeyed the order.  He unbuttoned his shirt diligently, without grace or any intent to entice.  He'd just been told to remove his shirt, so he did. Then he held it in his hand for a moment before finally letting it fall to the concrete.

Just as expected, Shiro was gorgeous.  Less expected were the scars crossing over his chest.  They didn't detract anything -- Keith had far more than his share as well.  But on a human his age, it was unusual. When combined with the prosthetic, it painted a picture.  "How did you get these?" Keith ran his fingers over one that wrapped around the left side of Shiro's rips.

Despite how deep under the thrall he'd been, Shiro stilled.  His eyes didn't focus, but they tensed around the edges, like he wasn't quite seeing Keith anymore.

Shit.  Keith didn't want to drag him out of a thrall this early.  Not only would it ruin his work, but it was never pretty for someone to suddenly yank themselves out of this kind of mental state.  

"Nevermind," Keith said, putting a finger to his lips.  "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you look good."

Immediately, Shiro unwound.  He blinked rapidly, not quite sinking back into the soft haze of before, but he at least didn't seem spooked anymore.  "Sorry, Master," he breathed, sagging forward as if to lean against Keith, but he caught himself at the last moment.

Apologizing meant a level of awareness that Keith didn't want.  So he pulled Shiro in for another round of kissing, this time slower and more contained.  He didn't want to let himself get carried away again. His hands found Shiro's hair again, massaging in until he relaxed.  "It's okay. Just lean into me. I'll take care of you."

Shiro let out a low rumble, letting Keith take more of his weight.  If he hadn't been a vampire it might have been too much, but Keith could have physically tossed Shiro into the air of he desired.  "Thank you."

"No problem."  Keith kissed over Shiro's neck, letting the thrall kick in again.  By now, Shiro was so deep into it that he didn't need eye contact. Just Keith's voice should be enough.  "Forget about it. Just focus on me. Focus on how good it feels. You have a sensitive neck, don't you? You like this."  He licked up the pale column, letting the edges of his fangs brush the skin.

Shiro's breath caught. "Yeah," he breathed, like he was just learning that about himself.  Or like Keith had just made it real by suggesting it. "I like that."

"Good boy," Keith crooned, still massaging.   "Good puppy." The term was teasing, more gentle than before, but no less amusing.

A chuckle bubbled up in Shiro -- a sign of personality that should have been difficult this far in a thrall.  "Woof," he drawled, slurred again.

At first, Keith paused, surprised by the humor.  But then he chuckled, giddy despite himself. That should have been bad, but Shiro wasn't fighting.  He was just thriving under the thrall like he belonged there. Never quite melting away into Keith's will, but remaining himself as he floated along in it.

A challenge and submission in equal, perfect balance.

And to think Keith had almost walked out before getting to taste this guy.

Keith nipped again, then grinned against the skin. "Oh, yeah.  You like that. You like my teeth on your neck. So sensitive and so eager.  Feels so good, doesn't it? Drives you crazy."

A moan ripped out of Shiro.  He pressed in closer to Keith, practically shoving them together.  "Yeah," he admitted, dazed but awed. "Amazing. Love your mouth. Makes me feel so good."  The mirrored words spilled from his mouth without him seeming to notice the repetition. As far as he knew, they’d come from his own mind.

"It's going to keep feeling good.  Better and better the longer it goes.  You're going to love this." With that, Keith took a fistful of Shiro's hair, just like he'd been imagining.  He yanked Shiro's head back, exposing him utterly, and let his fangs sink in.

At first, Shiro went stock still.  His muscles tensed as Keith sucked hard, getting a mouthful in case Shiro really did fight back.  The first moment of pain was always the make or break.

But then a moan ripped out of Shiro's mouth.  He slumped again, further arching his throat for Keith's mouth, and a fine tremble ran through him.  When Keith shifted for a better angle, he could feel Shiro's hips against his stomach, even through both layers of clothing.  His cock was fully hard, pulsing with his heartbeat the same way his swollen lips had.

What if Keith took a bite-

No.  All around a bad idea.   _ Deeply _ suspicious.  And Keith had exactly what he wanted right now.

He took another mouthful of blood, this time slowly.  The taste of Shiro filled his mouth with copper, drawing a deep moan of relief from Keith.  Exactly what he'd needed. The meal he'd been craving, served to perfection in a beautiful package.

As Keith drank slowly, savoring his meal, Shiro's hands came up to rub over Keith's chest again, openly groping.  His hips rocked forward, pressing that hard cock against Keith's stomach and grinding up in needy little circles.

Puppy was right -- Shiro was half a step away from outright humping Keith.

The thought was enough to pull Keith back.  He'd had plenty, and there was still another step to this.

When he did, Shiro's hand came up to idly rub over the wound on his neck. He shuddered at the touch, and his eyelids fluttered.  "Hm?"

Rather than let him look at the results, Keith took Shiro's hand in his and brought the fingers to his mouth.  He sucked them clean of blood, taking a second to savor the taste. Then he lapped at the puncture marks, cleaning them up as well.  "Just a hickey," Keith said, meeting Shiro's eyes directly. This time, he pushed the thrall harder, making sure this sank in. Playtime after eating was less important than making sure Shiro  _ knew _ this.  "You liked getting it.  It felt so good. You don't remember much of it.  It blurs together. You had too much to drink. But it was fun and you liked it."

"I liked it, Master," Shiro repeated back, swaying on his feet.  If the regular thrall hit him hard, this struck like a punch to the jaw.  "It felt good." He blinked slowly, lips gently parted as he sank. "So good."

True to his words, the cock still pressed to Keith's stomach twitched.

What a good boy.

"You'll do anything I ask, won't you?"  This time, Keith didn't even bother with the thrall.  He'd already dropped that line earlier, and either it would take or it wouldn't.  Besides, he suspected he didn't actually need the thrall for this idea. "You like it.  You want me to do the thinking, and just let you relax, huh?"

Shiro's head bobbed.  "Yeah. I do. You're so good."  Shiro went in for another kiss, which Keith allowed without a fuss.  "What do you want? Can I make you feel good?"

Using the grip still in Shiro's hair, if looser now, Keith pushed down until Shiro got the suggestion and fell to his knees.  "Yeah, just like that. Let's see that pretty mouth at work. Gunna feel so good to you, puppy. I know you love it."

Letting out a moan, Shiro leaned forward and ghosted his lips over Keith's clothed dick.  A full body shiver ran through Shiro, and he closed his eyes in open bliss. "I do. May I, Master?"  He looked up at Keith, his eyes huge and eager. Begging. 

Begging to get to suck Keith's cock.

_ Fuck. _

"Yeah," Keith rasped out, his heart throbbing again.  It pumped hard, sending Shiro's sunshine blood through his veins.  "Do it, puppy. Suck me."

Shiro practically ripped open Keith's pants at that, and eagerly freed him from his underwear.  Then, with his eyes locked on Keith, he took the cock into his mouth. One smooth, easy movement until his lips hit Keith's hips.

Deep throated in one go.

Keith clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his moan before someone walking by could hear and report them to the police.  He knew that the thrall probably helped. Being so relaxed made it easy for Shiro to take so much. But it didn't change how  _ gorgeous _ Shiro looked right now.  On his knees, shirtless, the front of his pants bulging and wet from his still trapped cock.  His lips stretched wide around Keith's shaft, his eyes so wide and  _ happy _ to be exactly where he was.

Keith could get used to--

No.  No way.  No being stupid.  Just enjoy the moment then let it go.

Keith bit down on his palm, nearly breaking the skin.  He used his other hand to tug Shiro back and forth, encouraging him to bob.

Shiro did, going along with the movements with fluid grace.   His eyes didn't move from Keith's for an instant.

The implication was clear.  Shiro was inviting Keith to  _ fuck his mouth. _

Beautiful.  Absolutely  _ stunning. _  Why the fuck hadn't someone snatched this guy up yet?

Keith wasn't about to pass up such a miracle.  He rocked his hips forward and then back, gentle at first to avoid hurting a fragile human.  But Shiro's eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile while his lips were too stretched.

Alright, then.

Keith gave himself to the pleasure, much as Shiro must have given himself to the thrall.  He rocked forward, pushing his cock past Shiro's lips, then back far enough that he popped free.  A line of drool connected them for a moment, then broke and ran down Shiro's chin.

The eyes on his didn't flicker, even as his head was jerked around.  Shiro seemed to relax further, his eyelids fluttering in open pleasure, and he held his mouth open in eager anticipation.

So Keith thrust back in.

Again and again, until his cock started to throb and heat pooled in his pelvis.  By then, Shiro's cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were completely glazed with pleasure.  A tremble ran through him, and he moaned around Keith's cock.

That was enough.  Keith shoved in one last time as he came, filling Shiro's mouth without warning.  His come filled Shiro's mouth and dribbled out down the mess of his chin.

As Keith did, Shiro's eye contact finally broke.  They rolled back as he shuddered and bucked in place, letting out a muffled groan.

When Keith let go and pulled back, it was obvious why.  There was a wet spot in the front of Shiro's pants.

He'd came.  Just from sucking Keith's cock.  Just because Keith had told him it would feel good.

_ Fuck fuck fuck. _

Shiro shivered, wracked with pleasure.  Then he slumped in place, still on his knees, and took several deep breaths.

Reaching down, Keith took hold of either side of Shiro's chest and pulled him up to his feet.  Then he licked over his face, cleaning up all the mess, before ducking to his chest to get what had dripped down.  When he finished, Shiro was watching him, wide-eyed and awed.

"You were so good for me," Keith managed, the words practically bursting out.  "So perfect."

Shiro smiled, and that sunshine spilled out from him, warming Keith by sheer proximity.  "I'm glad."

Reaching down, Keith hurriedly tucked himself away before they could get unlucky and get caught.  Then he took Shiro's shirt and tied it around his waist for him, smoothing it out so no one could see the wet patch.  He didn't need to be fussing over his meal like this, but Shiro had  _ earned _ it.  "How do you feel?"

"Good," Shiro breathed.  "So good. I've never-- you're amazing, Master."

So earnest.  So honest.

Poor puppy.

"Come here."  Keith tugged him down until their forehead were together again.  Shiro's arms automatically settled on his hips again, just like when they'd danced before.

Then, Keith turned up the thrall again, this time as high as he dared without doing actual damage.

"You had too much to drink," he said, forcing out the words through reluctant lips.  "Everything is a blur. You don't really remember what happened after you left the bar.  You know you made out in the alley, and you think you remember a blowjob. But otherwise it's all too hazy to remember.  You had a good time. You feel relaxed. You feel  _ amazing. _  But the details are gone."

There was a moment of pause.  Confusion flickered over Shiro's expression, and something close to rebellion.  But it smoothed out as he slumped forward, eyes flickering.

That much thrall was always disorienting.  He'd been useless for a while, yet.

This was usually the time Keith left.  He'd haze out his meal's memory and leave them to a dazed, drunken haze in a bathroom stall.  But this was different. It wasn't inside the bar, it wasn't in the relative privacy of the four stall walls.  Shiro was just out in the elements.

And he'd been so sweet.  So good for Keith.

It wasn't right to just drop him here and walk.

"Come on."  Keith pulled out his phone as he lead Shiro out of the alley.  He went along, stumbling like he was fully drunk and clinging to Keith like he never wanted to let go.  It took only a few minutes to pull up an Uber -- no doubt many were hovering in the area, waiting for the inevitable drunken calls.  "Where do you live?"

Shiro rattled off an address, so slurred that Keith had to get him to repeat it twice more before the driver could type it into their phone.  It took another minute to untangle Shiro's twining, needy fingers from Keith's shirt. "Go on home, Puppy."

Letting out a whine, in appropriate canine fashion, Shiro finally let go.  "Okay. See you again?"

"We'll talk," Keith lied, mostly for the benefit of the driver.  He paid for the ride, then made sure Shiro was buckled up before closing the door.  The last thing he needed was to hear the fragile human had died in a car accident because he was too drunk off the heavy thrall to be safe.

The car pulled away, and Keith watched it go.  He shoved back the emerging regret. No. That was stupid.  It had just been a meal. A good one, but nothing more. 

Turning on his heel, Keith shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked away.

He'd eaten, he'd gotten off, and now he was going to go back to his life.

He swore it.


	2. Chapter 2

The wind whipped through the streets, sending leaves fluttering under the tires of parked cars and underfoot of pedestrians.  Keith pulled his jacket tighter around himself, more out of an ingrained habit than an actual chill. He could feel the weather, but muted as if through a layer of gauze.  But he sometimes got odd looks for going out in winter without a coat, so Keith had learned to pretend.   
  
That was part of being smart.  It was part of keeping himself safe.   
  
The neon sign and thumping music ahead of him were not part of that.   
  
Keith had spent the last week telling himself he wasn't going to do this.  He wasn't stupid and he wasn't suicidal. He'd met a decent guy and gotten laid, and that was the end of it.  Shiro had gone home, slept off his hangover, and probably forgotten all about the encounter. Like a sensible person.   
  
When he'd left his apartment, Keith had just planned on going for a walk.  Enjoying the bracing fall air. Work off some energy. He wasn't hungry, and it would give him the chance to explore his new town, which he hadn't bothered to do over the past couple of months.   
  
Of course he'd been lying to himself.  Keith had walked the mile and change to the club unerringly.  And now here he was, staring down at the source of his temptation.  The thumping bass and drunken cheers from within should have been more than enough to send Keith scampering in the other direction when he didn't need a meal.   
  
Keith sighed and pushed the hood of his jacket off, bouncing on his heels.  This was ridiculous, and he should never have gotten this attached. There was no reason to be.  Shiro was tasty and cute, but that wasn't worth all this freaking out. He probably wasn't even here.  He'd said he wasn't a regular, especially not at this particular establishment. It had only been a week since they'd fumbled around in an alley.  Shiro probably didn't want to get anywhere near another club after that, at least not for a while.   
  
...Which meant no one else would recognize him inside, since Keith had just hovered in a dark corner.  If Shiro wasn't there, Keith was in no danger of being spotted and potentially making a scene. There was no reason not to duck inside.   
  
One drink couldn't hurt anyone.   
  
As Keith started to move forward, the bouncer stood up straighter, eyeing him.  His dawdling must have looked ridiculous from the outside. "You coming in, then?"  He asked.   
  
"Yeah," Keith said.  He dug through his jacket pockets for his wallet, and started the process of forcing his driver's license out of the clear pocket.  Damn thing always got stuck. "One second."   
  
"Sure," the bouncer replied, audibly rolling his eyes.  He turned instead to help another patron, who was already impatiently brandishing his own ID.     
  
As Keith managed to pry the license free, a car door opened.   
  
"--ank you for ride," a familiar voice said.   
  
Keith froze.   
  
"No problem," someone replied.  "Call if you need a ride back home, alright?  If you don't spend the night elsewhere."   
  
"Matt!"   
  
"Hey, considering you don't even remember how you got home last week?  I've got a right to give you shit."   
  
There was a sigh.  "Thank you, I'll text you later."  With that, the door slammed shut. There was muffled laughter, audible even through the glass and steel, as the car drove away.   
  
Slowly, heart in his throat, Keith turned around.   
  
Shiro stood there, bundled up in a thick coat and wearing a scarf.  His eyes were on the neon sign, which lit him in blues and greens. It caught the shine of his eyes and colored the raised skin over his nose.  Combined with his chiseled jawline and straight nose, it made him look like the inhuman one. But certainly something more ethereal than Keith.   
  
Then, as if feeling the eyes on him, Shiro turned and caught sight of Keith.   
  
He froze, a deer in the headlights.   
  
Keith's grip on his ID tightened.  His whole body tensed, prepared for the worst.  He’d never let himself assume he’d actually meet Shiro, so he hadn’t actually thought about facing him.  He’d never had to look one of his meals in the eye after thrallling and feeding from them.

What if Shiro railed at him for dragging a 'drunk' guy out for a public fumble?  Or he was angry and confused about how messed up he'd been -- it would be a reasonable assumption to believe Keith had spiked his drink. There was no good way to explain that his particular mind-altering substance had only made Shiro calm, suggestible and happy, and then made him not question the blood drinking.  Being banned from a club for drugging patrons wasn't as bad as being staked, but it wasn't good either.

Keith stood in the sidewalk, heart pounding in his throat, as he realized Shiro had all the power right now.   
  
But Shiro's expression softened, and a smile spread over his face.  "Keith," he breathed, like a revelation.   
  
....Shiro had remembered his name?  That was honestly surprising. He'd said it once the whole time.   
  
"Hey," Keith replied, just a hint hesitant.  "Shiro, right?"   
  
"Yeah."  Shiro's head bobbed, and his eyes didn't leave Keith's face for an instant.   
  
Just like when he'd blown--   
  
Nope, bad thought.  Not now.   
  
Keith shifted on his feet, still not sure what to do in the situation.  Shiro was still staring, even if he didn't see upset. "You got home okay, then?  I hoped you were giving the right address to the driver, but I couldn't exactly check."   
  
"I--"  Shiro stilled again, and this time his cheeks flushed.  "Yes, I'm sorry about that. I can't believe I got so out of hand.  I got home fine, and I'm sure I have you to thank for that. Really, I promise I'm not usually like that."   
  
The honest embarrassment made Keith finally relax.  The suggestion had took, and apparently Shiro was blaming himself for it.  Which wasn’t good, either, especially with the way Shiro curled in on himself.  But at least he wasn’t calling the cops. 

"I'm not blameless for sure,” Keith said.  “I was the one who got you to chug your drink so we could dance instead.  If you'd nursed it, I'm sure you would have been fine." He stepped in closer, unable to help himself.  After all that fussing and arguing with himself, it was too much to step away from Shiro when he was both here in person and not suspicious at all.  "It was fun. You seemed alright until the end. I liked talking with you."   
  
There was a flash of a grin.  "And other things, I imagine," Shiro drawled.   
  
A chuckle bubbled out of Keith.  "Yeah. The other things too." He looked back at the bar, where the bartender was watching their little display with ill-disguised impatience.  "We're you about to head in?"   
  
"I was, but--"  Shiro swallowed hard and shoved his hands into his pockets.  "Clubs really aren't my thing, usually. I was just... oh, this is awful.  I'm sorry that this is weird. But I was kind of hoping to run into you again?"   
  
Keith's heart picked up speed, and something warm grew in his chest.   
  
It had been so long since someone other than his mother wanted to see him.  His 'uncles' too, maybe, but in that 'kid of our friend' way. Not for Keith himself.   
  
But here Shiro was, gorgeous, sweet, and hopeful.   
  
Someone like that had no business offering Keith the kind of day, much less a second chance at a connection.   
  
If Keith was smart, he'd shake his head and wander off.  He'd tell Shiro he wasn't interested, sorry, and step away before this all got way out of hand.   
  
But Keith was a goddamn dumbass, because instead he said, "I came here looking for you."   
  
Shiro's face lit up.  It softened the intense lines of his face, making him look soft.  It made Keith want to run his hands over that jawline and see if something had changed.  "Really? That's- yes. Please." He looked at the sign and the bouncer, and straightened up again.  "Um. In that case, do you want to grab coffee instead? I really don't want to drink again after last time.  This time I want to be sure I didn't hallucinate you when I wake up tomorrow."   
  
"Yeah," Keith said, before he could think the answer through.  "Coffee sounds good. I know a place near here." He stuffed his ID back into his wallet and glanced over his shoulder.  "Nevermind. I'm good."   
  
"Apparently," the bouncer drawled.  He leaned against the wall again, clearly waiting for actual patrons.   
  
Smirking to himself, Keith nodded back the way he'd come.  "It's just a couple of blocks this way." He set off, Shiro jogging to catch up.  "So, uh, how much do you remember, anyway?"   
  
"Most of the dancing, I think," Shiro said, tugging on the edge of his scarf with his prosthetic.  "And I remember you saying we should get some air. After that it's a blur. Just flashes. Kissing.  Things we should not have done outside." He ducked his head, but hid a grin. "Even if it was fun."   
  
"It was very fun," Keith agreed, relaxing further.  Apparently fumbling around in a dark alley wasn't off Shiro's list when he was in his right mind.  That was interesting to know.   
  
Academically.  It wouldn't matter past that.  This was going to be coffee. Anything else was dangerous.   
  
But Shiro was nice to be around.  He'd been a good conversational partner last week, at least until the thrall really took hold.  He seemed to genuinely enjoy Keith's company and conversational skills, which put him in a very unique position.   
  
Maybe Keith could actually have a friend.   
  
That would be nice.  It had been far too long.   
  
"You have most of it, then," Keith said.  "After that I called a car. It couldn't have been past one."   
  
Shiro nodded.  "That makes sense.  I remembered a ride home, but not how I got it or who drove me.  Thank you for doing that."   
  
“No problem.  I’m glad you got home safe.”  A smile curled at the corners of Keith's mouth as he opened the door to the coffee shop.  At this hour, it was quiet, with only few other patrons. Two women chatted in the corner, and several people sat alone on their laptops, working busily.   
  
That was one part of his nocturnal schedule that Keith liked.  It was so much quieter. He could tolerate sunshine with prep, but he couldn't stand the noise and traffic and sheer volume of people in the daytime.   
  
Another reason why he'd isolated himself so thoroughly.   
  
"Not your usual evening, I guess,"  Keith asked as Shiro stepped inside.  He followed, taking a deep breath as he enjoyed the scent of brewing coffee.    
  
Shiro snorted.  "Oh, don't get me wrong.  I enjoy a night out. But I don't tend to..."  He paused, clearly searching for words. "Here, let's order first."   
  
Brows up, Keith nodded.  He stepped up to the counter while Shiro continued to read the menu.  "Just a regular coffee for me."   
  
"Yes, Sir."   
  
While the barista prepared the drink, Keith watched Shiro's profile.  His nose wrinkled as he read over something that clearly wasn't his taste, and his fingers tangled in the scarf.  A nervous gesture, then. His lips twitched slightly, like he wanted to mouth along with what he was reading. It took until Keith's order was ready for him to finally pick out a vanilla latte.   
  
When they took a seat, Keith wrapped his fingers around the warm cup, watching Shiro.  "You know you don't need to explain yourself to me," he finally said. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable with everything that went down."   
  
Shiro blinked, head snapping up.  "Oh, no! I'm fine with everything.  I just wish I remembered more. I'm disappointed in myself for not keeping track of my drinks better, and that's all."  He took a sip of his latte, then winced and pulled back to blow over it. 

Keith watched rather than drink his own coffee, curious what Shiro was building to.  He seemed to be hesitating again, taking his time with his drink rather than speak.

Finally, Shiro started.  "My problem isn't having an adventurous night.  It's that I usually don't make it that far. The whole time I think about work, or about how out of place I feel, or if anyone is staring."  He held up the prosthetic with an ironic wave. "There were a couple of other guys who came up to me before you. But the whole time I felt like I was bothering them or not what they wanted, so I shut it down.  Then you came, and... it was so easy with you."   
  
Oh.   
  
Keith thought back to how Shiro had noticed Keith's attention before he spoke up.  How he'd seemed fine at first, but it wasn't until he relaxed that Keith had realized how stiff he was.  It took a real smile to realize the others had been fake, just polite.   
  
No wonder Shiro had responded so beautifully to the thrall.  It wasn't just that he was sensitive or agreeable. It was that he'd desperately needed a way to get out of his own head and do the things he wanted to enjoy.  Keith's thrall had accidentally pierced straight through Shiro's anxious worries.   
  
Shiro had been just as excited to be relieved of his burdens as Keith had been to find a good meal.   
  
"I didn't realize," Keith admitted.  "It makes sense, though. I'm glad I could help.  I didn't really do much besides give you permission."   
  
Shiro laughed, though it was a touch bitter.  "I don't understand it myself. But it was amazing.  We just clicked. So that's why I went looking for you again.  I figured it was a long shot, but there you were."   
  
"There I was," Keith repeated, softer.  He sipped from his coffee just to give him a break from Shiro's earnest, warm expression.  How was Keith supposed to withstand that? It had been so long since he'd connected with someone like Shiro, mostly through his own choices.  Even longer since someone had looked at him like he was someone worthwhile, at least outside of his family.   
  
If there was a power greater than Keith's thrall, here it was.   
  
"I've dabbled before," Keith admitted, the words tumbling out of him before he could stop himself.  "I tend to go out to clubs once every couple of months. I was never looking for a connection, just satisfying a need.  But you were easy to talk to. I don't usually have that much lead up. I don't dance with people.”

“That’s a shame,” Shiro murmured, eyes still warm.  “You were a great dance partner.”

Keith paused, flattered and surprised by that.  “Uh, thanks. It was fun with you. You responded to me easily, so I've been thinking about it too.  I told myself it was silly to go back looking for you. What were the chances you'd be there, and even if you did, what if you weren't interested?"   
  
Shiro laughed into his latte, soft and a bit bitter.  "Same here. I was exactly the same. But we both did.  On the same night." He beamed again at Keith. "So, this time can we do this differently?  I want to talk. What do you do? What are your interests?"   
  
Keith paused yet again, thrown off by the questions.  Which was ridiculous -- those were perfectly normal things to ask a person.  It had just been so long since Keith had been asked, and since he felt compelled to answer honestly.  "Um. Well. I do some freelance writing. Mostly technical stuff, really boring, but companies will pay to get a blurb turned into different kinds of flyers and documents.  I also do transcripts for companies. Watching their corporate videos and writing adding metadata and subtitles for the hearing impaired. That kind of thing." He twisted the cup around in his hands.     
  
"Sounds..."  Shiro paused, then his lips quirked.  "I'd say interesting, but you don't seem to think so."   
  
"Not usually," Keith admitted.  "But it pays. Or, at least, it does until tax season destroys me.  But I like working my own hours. I'm a night owl, so it works out."   
  
"Sounds better than the same old work all the time."  Shiro unraveled his scarf and dropped it in his lap. "I'd love to work remote, but my company thinks it slows productivity.  Given a lot of the people I work with, I'm not sure they can get less productive, but maybe they're right."   
  
Keith snorted.  "I know the feeling.  Some clients I work with are just... amazingly bad at doing their jobs.  I'll send them five reminder emails just to get a basic yes or no. Then, when it gets approved, I get another email two weeks later complaining that they want something changed."   
  
Laughing, Shiro nodded.  "Exactly. It's even worse when you're working with people overseas.  It's hard enough to get the people who work on the same floor to come to meetings on time, much less ones in wildly different time zones."   
  
Tilting his head, Keith gestured with his cup.  "What about you? What do you do?"   
  
"I work for a company that does defense contracts," Shiro said flatly.  His eyes dropped to the table. "Military work, and but they do a side business of private security too.  Which is part of why I work such strange hours. We do a lot of contracts for research and development, and then it doesn't matter what else is happening in your life.  You get your project finished or else."   
  
"Which would be much easier if your coworkers were more useful, I'm guessing."   
  
Shiro flashed a smile and picked his head up again.  "Exactly. I manage a team, and I can't tell you the number of times I've considered asking for them all to be fired and just start over from scratch."   
  
"I can't imagine."  Keith really couldn't.  He wasn't a people person, and he'd never once wanted to be in charge of someone else, much less multiple someones.  Even putting that aside, he couldn't imagine looking at the honest stress on Shiro's face and deciding to make his life harder.   
  
Or maybe he could, since drinking his blood and convincing him he was drunk was probably not making Shiro's life easier.  But at least Keith felt bad about it.   
  
Shiro shrugged, clearly trying to shake off his drooping mood.  "Which is why I was looking for a distraction."   
  
Keith opened his mouth, then shut it.  He didn't know what to say. He'd never been good at soothing people.  Usually he wanted to run in the other direction, at least find someone else to handle any waterworks.  Shiro didn't look like he wanted to cry, not even close, but he had a cloud around him. A weight that Keith didn't know how to dispel.  'That sucks' didn't nearly cover it, but who was he to give life advice to someone who was nearly a stranger, even if Keith knew what to do about human drama like that.   
  
Instead, he needed a change of topic.   
  
"What else do you do?" Keith finally.  "Outside of occasional club visits and working, I mean.  You said you haven't danced in a long time. What else do you do?  What do you like?"   
  
Shiro paused, head tilted as he thought about it.  "Oh. Um. Not much, lately. Lots of documentaries on Netflix lately, mostly about space travel."   
  
Stilling, Keith sat up straighter.  "You like space?"   
  
"Who doesn't?"  Shiro started to laugh, then paused at Keith's earnest interest.  "Yes, I do. I wanted to be an astronaut for years as a kid, and I got absolutely obsessed with being a pilot.  I ended up going to the Air Force Academy just so I could fly. Obviously I ended up leaving, but keeping up with the latest news and research at least scratches that itch."   
  
"I'm like that too," Keith admitted, breathless with it.  "I loved it. I'd stare up at the night sky for hours, just picking out constellations.  My mom signed me up for private pilot license training for my birthday a few years ago. I have my telescope back in my apartment."   
  
Keith could still remember the exact moment he'd seen his first plane.  Back then they were still all biplanes, and it was ridiculously rare to see one.  He'd heard the noise for several minutes before the little craft had flown overhead, bobbing on the airwaves.  Keith had braved the afternoon sun just to watch it float along.   
  
In that moment, he'd wanted nothing more than to do that too.  To sit in that seat, let the cold air rush past, and feel the thrill of flying.   
  
After, Keith learned all he could about planes and about pilots.  About the sky and the stars beyond. He'd pined, aching in the way that poems in his classes and books spoke of love to another person.  The pilot lessons had been private, one-on-one, with an instructor who believed Keith had a skin condition that made him wary of sunshine.  But he'd flown. He'd gotten his license.   
  
It was still his favorite birthday gift ever.   
  
Space was out -- there was no way Keith could hide his true nature that long.  But he could dream of it, stare up at the stars and imagine.   
  
"You do?"  Shiro asked.  A smile spread over his face as his eyes lit up.  "I keep thinking about it, but the light pollution in town is so bad, and I never have the time to drive to a campsite or whatever to get a good view.  They're too expensive to just let it gather dust, and I wasn't sure someone wouldn't see a telescope in the window and get the wrong idea."   
  
A laugh burst out of Keith, mostly from surprise.  One of the laptop-wielding patrons glanced up at them, which he ignored.  "You should get it anyway," he said, smiling at Shiro. "Even if you don't use it all the time.  So long as you can afford it, why not? I don't use mine every night, but I like having it around.  It reminds me of when I was a kid." All the hours spent with his Dad, and later his mother, finding new patterns in the sky and making up stories.  Camping nights with his 'uncles', feeling like part of the group as they taught him survival tricks and made campfires under moonlit skies.   
  
So much of Keith's life happened at night, so it only made sense for him to have his telescope.  But if Shiro loved the stars that much, he should get that same joy.   
  
Shiro's eyes softened.  "That sounds nice. Maybe I should."  He smiled at the table, twisting his cup around in his fingers and looking soft again.     
  
They both sat there, Shiro lost in some memory and Keith staring at him.   
  
From start to finish, this had all been a bad idea.  But at this point, Keith had to stop lying to himself.  Shiro was interesting, and he was cute, and he made Keith feel like a regular person having a nice first date.   
  
Keith hadn't been able to walk away from this before, and every decision since had dug himself deeper.  So it was time to make this work without ruining everything.   
  
"Can I ask a blunt question?" Keith asked suddenly.  He drained the rest of his coffee, hoping for some kind of fortification.  "What are you hoping for right now? I know you didn't think you'd find me, but now that you did, what did you want?"   
  
Shiro opened his mouth, then paused.  He leaned back in his chair and looked Keith up and down, assessing.  "You want my cards on the table first, huh?"   
  
"I asked first," Keith replied. Luckily, the childishness drew a smile from Shiro, rather than annoyed him. "And yeah, I guess so.  I don't really have a plan, here. I've been winging it so far. So, I figured if you had an idea where we're going, at least we have a road map."   
  
Nodding slowly, Shiro relaxed.  "Yeah, alright." He brushed his bangs out of his face, eyes scanning over Keith's face like he was able to see below his skin.  Suddenly, Keith understood how Shiro had survived his job until now. "I want how I felt last week, without the embarrassing drunk parts.  I want the way you dared me out of my comfort zone. And, from what I remember, the sex was amazing too."   
  
A smirk curled at Keith's lips as he remembered how damn good Shiro had looked on his knees, and how he'd come just from the thrall and blowing someone.  "It was."   
  
Color bloomed over Shiro's cheeks, but he only looked proud as he continued.  "Until we met back up, that was all I was looking for. But the longer we talk, the more I think we'd really get along outside of that chemistry.  For me, I can work with a few things. If you're only looking for someone to call when you need release, that could be fine. If you'd like to do more evenings like this, where we hang out too, I think that could be a lot of fun.  And if you'd like more of a committed relationship -- well, you should know that I'm certifiably terrible at that. My ex would tell you plenty. And considering how we met, I think it'd be silly to take it slow, but it depends on what you want."   
  
Okay, Keith wished he still had some coffee left, because now he could really use a way to stall.  Instead he tapped his fingers along the side of the cup and looked over Shiro's confident, neutral expression.   
  
It was the same one he'd worn at the bar last week.   
  
A projection.  Keith had fallen for it completely, before, but now he knew better.  This was how Shiro braced himself against his own nerves, or against possible rejection.   
  
Could Keith use Shiro as an occasional lay?  Maybe every couple of weeks or so, get a meal and get him off?  Keep the edge off without inviting Shiro in too deep and letting him figure it out?   
  
What Shiro  _ wanted _ was the thrall.  It was what had made the sex so spectacular for him, and what had cut through his nerves. So if Keith was going to be dropping Shiro anyway, why not let him in?  He could edit Shiro's memory of anything too weird if he needed to.   
  
It was a risk.  But, damn it all, it was a risk Keith was willing to take.   
  
"Friends with benefits, you're saying?"   
  
Shiro's confident facade didn't flicker.  "That's one possibility, yes."   
  
Reaching out, Keith caught Shiro's hand and cupped it with his own.  He felt a jolt run through him, and for a moment, Shiro's eyes widened.  The intimacy, the warm touch, showed the fault lines in Shiro's defenses.   
  
Keith understood that too, maybe even better than the desire to fly.   
  
"I'd like that," he said softly.  "I'd like that a lot."   
  
Shiro blinked.  Then, slowly, a wide smile spread over his face.  It was still tentative, like he didn't quite trust his hearing, but soon he was absolutely beaming.  "Good. Me too. I think we could be good friends."   
  
Despite himself, Keith agreed completely.  "Me too." He paused, sliding his fingers between Shiro's.  "You done? We could go back to my place and you could see my telescope."   
  
Shiro's smile grew.  He sipped the last dregs of his latte, then arched a brow at Keith.  "Was that serious, or was it a euphemism?"   
  
"It can be both."   
  
Letting out a laugh, Shiro stood without breaking their clasped hands.  "Yeah, let's go."   
  
Still hand-in-hand, like giddy teenagers, Keith lead them out and down the street.  They had to pause for a moment so Shiro could wind his scarf back around himself -- while his prosthetic was impressive, it wasn't as maneuverable as his natural hand.  But even with that, it took less than fifteen minutes for Keith to bring them both to his apartment.   
  
As he unlocked the door, Keith hesitated.  Of all the dangerous choices he'd made so far, this was by far the worst.  But he already knew he was going to thrall Shiro. It would be easy to blur out Keith's address at the same time.   
  
This was controlled.  Keith was still in control.  Giving that control over was what Shiro wanted.   
  
Letting out his breath, Keith opened the door and gestured inside.  "Come on in."   
  
Thankfully, Keith's apartment was relatively neat.  That was mostly a function of lack of stuff rather than any attempt to keep it that way.  Plenty of vampires that Keith knew kept their stuff from generation to generation, and would amass multiple storage units full of sheer crap.  He'd never been that sentimental. Between his mother and himself, they kept one or two old units with a few items, usually what they thought they could turn around and sell when it was 'antique'.  Otherwise, Keith sold off most everything each time he moved, and he rarely amassed much to begin with.   
  
One of the few exceptions to that sat proudly on the balcony, barely visible through the blinds.   
  
Shiro looked around, unwinding his scarf as his head swiveled.  "This is nice. How bad is the noise this close to bars?"   
  
"Usually not bad, but once in a while there'll be some real assholes."  Keith shrugged. "That's a problem no matter where you are. My neighbors have been good so far, which is enough."  He looked Shiro over. "You want to take off your coat and relax, or should we go look through the telescope first?"   
  
Shiro bit his bottom lip, looking Keith over.  "I had assumed if we started getting comfortable then we'd be losing clothes, not putting them back on."   
  
A smirk curled over Keith's mouth.  He stepped in closer, until they were nearly flushed, and took hold of Shiro's jacket.  He used that to pull him down into a kiss. "How little imagination."   
  
Shiro chuckled into the kiss, hot puffs of air that wafted against Keith's lips.  "I'm cold enough out there. Unless you plan on bringing the telescope inside, then I think I'd prefer to keep all my clothing on."   
  
"Still so little imagination."  Keith slid one hand down to cup just above Shiro's cock.  He licked his lips, already able to hear and feel the rushing blood.  "Who needs to take off clothes?"   
  
Choking, Shiro let his head fall back as he laughed, loud and unabashed.  It was maybe the happiest, easiest noise that Keith had ever heard him make.  "You got me there." He leaned in and nipped Keith's lips, almost as if he was copying what Keith had done last week.  "You definitely know how to bring out the exhibitionist in me."   
  
Keith smiled into the kiss, even has his heart picked up.  The words, combined with the mirroring, made him wonder exactly how much of their previous encounter was still swimming around in Shiro's head.  He'd said he didn't remember much, but the memory could have just been buried. It had never been a problem, because Keith was never around the people he'd thralled again.   
  
But it was so hard to worry about that when Shiro's lips were against his own, and he pressed his hips up minutely into the touch.  "I like how eager you get," Keith admitted, more truthful than he meant to be. "It's cute."   
  
"Cute?"  Shiro's hands curled around Keith, one splaying over the small of his back and the other wrapping around his waist.  "I must be doing something wrong if it's cute."   
  
"No, exactly right.  I like it." Keith gave him a last firm kiss, which made their lips smack as he pulled back.  The noise made Shiro's pupils dilate, until the grey iris was a thin band. "Let's go then." He gave Shiro a firm smack on the ass, which made him jolt, then stepped back and walked around him to the balcony.  Shiro took an audible deep breath, then followed obediently as Keith unlocked the door.   
  
Even with his relative immunity to temperatures, Keith shuddered at the blast of cold air.  Next to him, Shiro locked up, arms folding over his chest. A shiver ran through him and he gave a firm shake of his head.  

"Brrr."  Shiro said, scowling exaggeratedly.  But he was easily distracted by the telescope.  Eyes wide, he reached out, running the tips of his fingers over the optical tube.  It was one of the newer models, shorter and rounder but able to see farther and more clearly than Keith could have dreamed as a boy.  "Oh, wow."   
  
Keith smiled softly, taking in Shiro's honest appreciation.  He crossed his arms over himself as he leaned against the now closed door.  "You'd see more if we didn't just walk into a bright apartment and then looked in the middle of a light polluted city.  But give it a shot."   
  
Snorting, Shiro glanced back over his shoulder.  "I'll just have to try some other time, then." But that, he ducked down and looked through the eyepiece, tilting the telescope up to get a better view.   
  
It was, at least, a clear night.  A few stars already managed to peer through the gloom.  Or, more accurately, planets.   
  
While Shiro got his bearings, Keith stepped forward.  He made sure his steps were loud enough to be heard, then gently placed a hand on Shiro's hips.  He stilled, but quickly relaxed, so Keith went ahead and plastered himself to Shiro's back. "You look cold.  Does that help?"   
  
"The cold, yes.  My concentration, no."  Shiro laughed again, softer than before, and made no move to stop Keith.  So he slid a hand down, curving past Shiro's stomach and cupping over the bulge of his cock.  "And that's even worse."   
  
"Aww, come on.  Try." Keith let his breath ghost over the back of Shiro's ear.  Experimentally, he turned up the thrall, just enough that it would work without eye contact.  After all, that relaxation was exactly what Shiro liked about this. Who was Keith to deny him?  "Go ahead, tell me what you see. But I bet your concentration is going to slip the more I do this."  He rubbed his hand up and down, gently squeezing Shiro's bulge.   
  
Shiro let out a gasp.  "No kidding," he grumbled.  "But you know what? You're on."  He tensed again, this time against Keith's touches, and shifted the telescope with renewed purpose.  "That's Orion right there. I can still see the belt."   
  
"Good," Keith murmured, and smiled when Shiro shivered again.  "Keep going. But it's just going to get harder the longer you take."  He continued to rub in slow circles, curious to see how this would work out.  "Eventually you're going to give in and just want to listen to me."   
  
"No," Shiro said, playfully petulant.  "I'm fine. There's Gemini, right next to it.  And, u-um..." He swallowed hard. "Taurus is right over that."   
  
"Can you actually see it right now, or do you just know where it is?"   
  
"Prove it."   
  
Keith laughed into the back of Shiro's neck, honestly amused.  "No cheating."   
  
Shiro only huffed. "You're cheating."     
  
...He knew about the thrall?   
  
No, no.  He meant what Keith's hand was doing.  To check, he gave another squeeze, and Shiro made a grumpy noise.  Yes, that was it.   
  
"Find the the North Star," Keith said.  "Better find it quick. I can tell you're lagging.  The longer it takes for you to see it -- really see it -- the harder it'll be to pay attention.  Instead you'll be thinking about what I'm going to do to you when we go back inside."   
  
"Anyone tell you that you're really sure of yourself?" Shiro asked, even as he readjusted the telescope.   
  
Keith hummed.  "It's been said.  Why?"   
  
There was no answer.  Instead, Keith continued to rub in slow, deliberate circles, feeling Shiro's cock twitch and fill from the touch.  Even the cold couldn't stop him, not when there was such a warm, eager hand on him.   
  
_ Each rub brings you down further.  Sinks you further. Makes you hazy and content. _   
  
Without seeing Shiro's expression, Keith couldn't be sure his thrall was actually working.  But Shiro was sensitive, and his movements were starting to get slower. The adjustments of the telescope, before so purposeful, were now moving in small, unsure circles.  He had a range, but he couldn't seem to find the right star.   
  
"It's taking you a while," Keith murmured, kissing at the back of Shiro's neck.  "Getting difficult, there? The harder it is to concentrate, the longer it's going to take.  And the longer it takes, the harder it'll be to concentrate to find it. Better hurry up."   
  
There wasn't a response.  Shiro's fingers twitched around the telescope, and he murmured something that didn't quite become words.  It was distinctly grumpy, though, so Keith just smiled and let him keep working.   
  
While he kept rubbing, of course.   
  
Eventually, Shiro seemed to slump forward.  His head pressed against the metal of the telescope, which jolted him for a moment.  Then he settled back down and rocked back into Keith.   
  
"Shiro?  Are you giving up?"  Keith asked, letting his free hand creep up the front of Shiro's shirt.  "You want to go back in?"   
  
"No.  Wanna find it."  Shiro did pick his head up off the telescope, even if the movement was slow.  "S'far down. Can't find it."   
  
Keith's brow furrowed as he finally picked his head up and looked up at the stars.  He scanned for the North Star, which should have been visible after how long they'd stood outside.  But one of the taller buildings in front of them jutted up, right in the area the star would be.   
  
Keith had given him an impossible task, and in his state, Shiro had kept trying to fulfill it, even as the act sent him spiraling deeper into trance.   
  
"Oh, Shiro," Keith murmured.  Part of him felt bad -- he'd never meant for it to be a truly unfair challenge, just one Shiro would eventually enjoy losing.  But another part of him liked that Shiro had tried so hard. "Why didn't you stop?"   
  
"You said you wanted me to find it."   
  
Keith's heart thudded in his chest, and his fingers dug in possessively around Shiro.  If he was fully awake, it wouldn’t have made sense to keep looking, but he hadn’t seem to notice the oddity of looking for a star that was blocked.   
  
Shiro had done it just because Keith had asked.  Because he wanted to fulfill Keith's orders.    
  
"Puppy," Keith breathed, honestly awed.  The thrall wasn't an order he had to answer in full.  It was a suggestion, a thought that became Shiro's own.  It could override his own inclinations, but only under a heavy amount of specific force.  Keith had only used that for safety, so Shiro wouldn't notice the bite or would forget the specifics that would lead him to realize something was different about Keith.   
  
Not for this.  Not for this silly dare.   
  
Shiro had honestly wanted to obey Keith's orders, for no reason other than that Keith had told him to.

_ Fuck, _ that was hot.  Hot and humbling.   
  
The nickname caused a shiver to run through Shiro.  He dropped his arms completely from the telescope and leaned back trustingly into Keith.  "Mmmaas..."   
  
Keith froze.   
  
Was that just a happy noise, or was that...?   
  
Shaking himself, he tugged Shiro up until he stood.  "You did well," Keith told him. When Shiro beamed, he swallowed hard.  "Let's go in and get you warmed up."   
  
"Yeah.  Getting warm.  Good." Shiro followed along easily as Keith opened the door and walked them inside.  He sighed as they stepped into the heat, and closed the door behind them seemingly out of habit.  The whole time, his gaze stayed locked on Keith's face, a smile smile curled over his lips.   
  
Which left Keith unsure what to do.  Did he give Shiro a chance to warm up?  Maybe keep deepening the thrall? Or did he bring them directly to the bedroom?  He knew his job here was to make sure Shiro was too out of his mind to worry and that he felt good, but other than that it was open ended.   
  
What did people normally do with guests?  Especially sexual ones. Keith honestly wasn't sure anymore.  The last time he'd had anything more complex than a rushed one night stand was so long ago it was uncomfortable to think about it.   
  
Shit.   
  
Keith looked up at Shiro, taking in the soft gaze and relaxed posture.  He looked so much better like this, happy and relaxed. None of the tension that dogged him without the thrall.  "What do you want, Puppy?"   
  
"You," Shiro replied immediately, just like last time.  But, without prompting, he continued. "Want to feel you.  Want to do more than taste you."   
  
Well, that answered that.   
  
This was friends with benefits.  An arrangement. Shiro had come to this apartment for sex and release.  Because he knew Keith did something to make him relax, even if he couldn't possibly understand what.   
  
No need to draw this out.  Keith was going to give Shiro what he wanted, and he was going to enjoy himself while he did it.   
  
Keith took hold of Shiro's shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.  Like when they first came inside, it was slick and filthy, delving into Shiro's mouth.  Shiro returned it, passionate but a hint slower than he would have been. Once again, his hands found Keith's hips, digging in freely.   
  
Keith smiled against Shiro's mouth.  "You could probably pick me up and carry me around easily, couldn't you?"   
  
"Yes," Shiro replied immediately, barely pausing the kiss to speak.  He ran his tongue over Keith's bottom lip, seeming to enjoy the shiver it caused.  "Do you want me to?"   
  
"Not really."  Maybe another time.  But what Keith liked a lot more than being carried around was that a guy who could carry him around was so eager to listen.  He grinned and threaded his fingers into Shiro's hair, giving a firm tug. Just like before, Shiro let out a low groan, head falling back.   
  
Exposing that pretty neck.   
  
It was tempting to take another bite, but Keith held himself back. He wasn't hungry, not yet, and there was so much more to do.  He didn't want to risk that the blood loss would tire Shiro out quickly.   
  
Instead, he stepped back completely, enjoying Shiro's shiver.  "I want you to strip. Completely." Keith let his fingers gently roam down Shiro's sides, from the bottom of his ribs down to his hips.  It was barely a brush of his fingers, but it still made Shiro's mouth fall open. Then he activated his thrall again, a smirk playing at his lips.  "I want you to feel comfortable that way. Just like you are now. While you're in this apartment, it's perfectly normal to be naked. Natural."   
  
Shiro's fingers immediately wrapped around his jacket zipper.  But he paused, brow furrowing just a bit. "Normal?" He repeated, searching Keith's face as if for clues or reassurance.   
  
"You're here to have sex.  To enjoy yourself and relax.  Being naked is part of that." Keith opened his mouth to keep pushing, then paused.  "Unless you don't want to." Taking off his shirt hadn't been a problem, even in the cold fall air.  He'd been on board with getting his cock rubbed out on the balcony. Why was this different? "What's wrong, Puppy?"   
  
Shiro still hesitated, head ducked.  "It's rude."   
  
It-   
  
Seriously?   
  
Keith shook his head, not sure if he was annoyed or endeared at the answer.  "I like you naked. You're lovely to look at, and I want you comfortable. It's not rude if I asked you to."   
  
Just like that, Shiro relaxed.  "Okay. Good. So long as it's normal."  Once again, the longer he stayed in the thrall, the more and more his personality showed through. He straightened up and pulled the zipper down, letting his jacket slide off his shoulders.   
  
Then he stopped to fold it.  He set the jacket down neatly on the coffee table before starting on his shirt.  Which he also folded.   
  
Stepping back, Keith covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.  "Really?"   
  
"Hm?"  Shiro picked his head up halfway through folding his shirt.  "What? I don't want it to wrinkle."   
  
"No, that's fine.  Carry on."    
  
Shiro shot him a last look over his shoulder, then got back to work.  Once his shirt was set on the table, he started to step out of his jeans.  It was objectively sexy to watch those long, muscled legs get exposed, but there wasn't an attempt by Shiro to be sexy.   
  
Why would he?  Keith had told him this was normal.  This was probably how he undressed every night.    
  
Keith was just getting a peak at what Shiro looked like with his guard down.  A taste of domesticity, the quirks of a person completely comfortable with another.   
  
Warmth bubbled up in him.  Keith rocked back on his heels while he watched Shiro take off his underwear with a similar lack of fanfare.  He was still half-hard, and when Shiro turned around he stood up straight, utterly unselfconscious of his body and lack of dress.   
  
Perfect.

Putting his hands on Shiro's hips, Keith walked him carefully backward so he wouldn't trip over the couch or coffee table.  Shiro went along easily, eyes still trustingly on Keith's face as he was guided through the apartment. He didn't seem to mind until his backside hit the glass door to the balcony.  Then he gasped, eyes wide, as a shiver ran through him. "Ah!"

Keith just tilted his head as he reached around, taking hold of the each cheek of Shiro's ass and digging in his fingers.  It drew another breath out of Shiro, this time as his hole was exposed to the colder air. "Too cold for you? I want to show you off a little.  Let everyone see how good you feel."

Squirming, Shiro's cheeks flushed.  "Oh," he breathed. It was impossible to tell if his tone was because of the temperature or the situation.  "Okay. This is good."

"You sure?"  It was half check-in, half tease.  Keith let go of Shiro's ass with one hand to instead loosely wrap around his cock, pumping slowly.  The entire situation was absolutely delicious. Shiro was dazed, squirmy, utterly naked against Keith's balcony door, while Keith himself was totally clothed and enjoying the fruits of his labor.

Not that there was actually anyone to see Shiro's state -- the dumpster and recycling below were blocked by the balcony, and the only buildings tall enough to see this high were empty offices.  Keith didn't want to get either of them arrested. But it was fun to watch Shiro flush, and the idea set of heat in Keith's stomach. Why shouldn't they show off? If this was what they both wanted, why not turn Shiro's submissive pleasure into a show?  Especially when he looked so delicious, all for Keith's consumption.

One hand continued to pump, helping to keep Shiro's arousal up in the cold, and the other just enjoyed squeezing the meat of Shiro's ass.  Curiously, Keith trailed his lips and tongue over Shiro's throat. "Do you remember me doing this to you last time?"

"M-maybe?"  Shiro asked, voice pitching up.  He trembled, either from the cold or the sensations, as his hands fluttered over Keith's side and shoulders.  Clearly, he didn't know where to put them. "Feels good. Sensitive." His breath hitched, and he gave a little buck into Keith's hand.

Those were nearly the same words Keith had used.  Which could be that the memory was still buried in Shiro's head.  Or, it could mean--

Keith nipped Shiro's throat, careful not to actual break the skin just yet.

Shiro let out a loud moan and bucked harder.  Precome dribbled from the head of his cock and dripped down Keith's palm, slicking his grip.

That wasn't just the memory of a trigger.  No, it was still active. Keith hadn't ever put an end date or qualification onto making Shiro's throat more sensitive.  Therefore, it  _ still  _ was more sensitive.

Holy shit.

Keith groaned, rocking forward himself until his jean-clad cock rubbed against Shiro's bare thigh.

But that also meant other thrall commands might still be in there.  The possibilities sparked up Keith's spine, his whole body alight with the amazing possibilities.  But one order in particular came to mind, and had to be dealt with first.

So Keith stepped back and stilled his hand.  "Look at me."

Shiro did, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.  He looked like he wanted to object to the sudden stop.

Before he could, Keith turned the thrall up again, as hard as he had to make Shiro not notice the bite.  "You can say no at any time."

The thrall had to be strong, because it was fighting another, previous command:

_ You want what I want. _

For one quick fumble, that had been fun.  Or, rather, it was fun when Keith didn't care about this guy as more than a quick meal.  But if they were going to keep seeing each other, that was dangerous. Keith might want to keep enjoying his meal and helping Shiro along the way, but he didn't want to actually stamp over Shiro's free will. But this should fix that without the process of breaking previous thrall commands, so long as he gave it enough power.

Brows up, Shiro's mouth fell open.  He blinked rapidly, clearly resetting after the sudden strong thrall.

"I know," he said, simply as that.

Keith relaxed.  "Good." He kissed Shiro again, gentler than before.  "Just making sure." Then he ran his teeth along Shiro's neck and gave a sharp suck.

There was a dull thump, no doubt the back of Shiro's head hitting on the glass door.

Keith smirked against the skin.  "I like how much you enjoy this," he said, turning down the thrall to more reasonable levels.  "You want to talk about turning off your brain? This is doing that for you, I can tell. The more your neck is brushed and touched, the more eager and worry free you get.  I bet I could get you to that nice, quiet mental place just by touching here."

Shiro shuddered, his hands firmly clamping onto either side of Keith's waist.  "Yeah. It feels amazing. I don't know how-- Never before you."

"Guess no one else does it right."  A good thing to establish anyway -- if Keith wasn't going to walk these commands back, then he should at least make it so a stray hand on Shiro's neck wouldn't send him into a trance at work or something.  "You're so beautiful like this."

Whining, Shiro bucked up hard into Keith's still stopped hand, then gasped again when his ass hit the cold glass anew.  "You.... Fuck, Keith."

"Who?"

There was only a moment's hesitation.  "Master."

What a good boy.

Keith finally started to pump again, and crept forward with his other hand until he could circle Shiro's exposed hole with one finger.  "You wanted more than to blow me this time, you said?"

"Yes, Master," Shiro said.  His tone had none of the blank formality that corny TV movies gave the phrase.  He said it like it was Keith's name, and just as passionate and eager.

"Then how about I lay you over my couch and fuck you right in front of these doors, then?" Keith said, between nips to Shiro's throat.  Little red spots of rising blood appeared and faded under his mouth. Keith enjoyed it, both because it made his mouth water and because he liked temporarily marking Shiro.

Shiro's fingers dug in tighter, to the point it would have been uncomfortable if Keith had been human.  "Yes. Yes! Please." He lifted one leg, winding it around the back of Keith's thigh to give the toying finger more access.  If he realized that would expose his hole further to the glass, he didn't mind.

Growling, Keith slid both hands under Shiro's thighs, ignoring the loud whine of loss that earned him.  "Hold on to me," he said, right before he lifted up.

Shiro yelped, moving his hands up to grip Keith's shoulders instead as he was physically lifted up off his feet.  Both thighs locked around Keith's waist, squeezing powerfully. When he looked down, his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he was casually picked up.

Biting back a smirk, Keith easily walked them over and dumped Shiro onto the couch.  He went down in a splay of limbs, legs spread wide and one arm thrown over the side of the cushions. 

Staring up at Keith, hair rumbled and cheeks flushed, Shiro blinked in utter astonishment.  "How did you do that?"

"I'm stronger than I look."  Keith climbed over the armrest, slotting in on his knees between Shiro's spread thighs.  It forced him to widen them, but the position didn't seem to bother him. Flexible, then.  "Do you like it?"

"Yes," Shiro breathed, so immediate and awed that he seemed surprised by himself.

"You like that I can manhandle you?"  Keith took Shiro's wrists in each hand and pinned them to the other arm rest, smiling wide enough to show his fangs.  "You like that I can hold you down and play with you?"

"Yes."  This time, Shiro's voice jumped up a pitch.  His hands clenched into fists under Keith's hold, and he arched his naked chest up pleadingly.

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes!"  Shiro bucked hard, but despite how much smaller Keith was, he couldn't move him.  "Fuck me, Master. I want you to fuck me. I don't want to think about anything but your cock."

This man was the best impulse decision that Keith had ever made.

Kissing him hard, Keith worked the bottom lip with the tips of his fangs, no longer even attempting to hide them.  "Then you'd better listen to me. If you want me to fuck you, then you have to do what I tell you, unless you're too uncomfortable.  Otherwise I'll stop and you'll be empty. Got it?" Keith pressed their foreheads together, meeting Shiro's gaze.

Shiro nodded, trembling.  At first, Keith pulled back, worried he'd pushed too far or set something off.  But as he moved away, he realized Shiro was beaming up at him. "I want to. I want to do what you tell me, Master."  He shuddered again, and his cock visibly twitched, still drooling precome.

Fuck, he liked that.

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself.

Then he let go of Shiro's wrists.  "Then freeze."

Shiro went still.

Keith looked Shiro over, heart pounding.  Other than the flickering of his eyes and the rise and fall of his chest, Shiro had locked up completely.

All at a word.

"I'm going to get undressed and get some supplies," Keith told him, placing both hands on those delicious pecs.  He only remembered after how Shiro had shined away from comments and attention to his chest last time. But there was no sign of discomfort, only pure desire and pleading in Shiro's expression, so he kept his touch light but didn't move his hands.  "You stay exactly here until I get back."

There was no response at all, not even a whimper.  But Shiro's eyes shone, a promise without word or gesture.

Keith kissed him slowly, just to test the control.  He slowly ran his tongue along Shiro's frozen lips and moaned loudly into his half-open mouth.

Shiro's breath stuttered, but he didn't move.  When Keith pulled back, his eyes begged for more, but he didn't make a peep.

Keith nearly doubled over from his own aching arousal.  He hastily climbed off and half-limped to his room, already shedding clothes.  Maybe sometime he'd test how long he could push this, keeping Shiro still while Keith toyed with him - combining the trick with the neck sensitivity sounded promising.  But right now, Keith was going to burst if he didn't get inside Shiro soon, and they were both more than ready to get to the next part.

Keith practically tore out the drawer of his bedside table as he pulled out a packet of lube.  By habit, he didn't keep condoms on him, since he couldn't catch or give human diseases of any sort.  It hadn't mattered last time, so hopefully Shiro wouldn't care now either. 

Then Keith walked back into the living room, forcing himself not to run and reveal exactly how overeager he was to return.  As he rounded the couch, Shiro's eyes snapped to him, but the rest of him was still like a statue.

Keith paused, just for a minute.  He was painfully hard, and Shiro could no doubt tell what his obedience was doing.  But so what? He took in that Shiro's legs were still held wide enough for Keith to slide between them, that his wrists were still locked to the armrest like he being held there.  That there was no worry or fear in his eyes - just pleading desire.

Beautiful.

As soon as Keith climbed back onto the couch, Shiro took a deep breath, then groaned so loudly that the neighbors could probably hear.  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he gave a full body jerk like he was physically preventing himself from coming on the spot. "Holy shit," he choked out.

"That should be my line."  Keith kissed down his chest, watching again for a reaction.  But Shiro only continued to shudder, watching Keith with naked, mindless pleading in his eyes.  He popped the top off the lube and slicked his fingers up. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!"  Shiro arched up, spreading his thighs even wider.  "Master, please, yes. I don't want to wait any more."

Smiling softly, Keith nodded.  "Then relax for me, Puppy,"

Immediately, Shiro slumped back against the couch, losing his arch as he automatically obeyed.  His thighs, previously held tense in anticipation, went soft and pliant. It meant he couldn't hold them open as far, but that was alright.  Keith used his other hand to bed one knee and rest it over his shoulder, so he could work without issue.

Then he slid in two fingers at once.

Shiro's eyes went wide.  For a split second, his hole tensed, then relaxed all at once again.  "Oh."

Smiling, Keith pressed a kiss to Shiro's knee as he started to pump the fingers.  So long as he wasn't tensing, starting off a little strong didn't hurt him, and being suddenly filled seemed to work for Shiro.  Already, there wasn't too much resistance.

As he worked Shiro open, Keith watched his face.  "You look beautiful like this. Does it feel how you wanted?"

"Better," Shiro said.  He beamed back, expression warm, even adoring.  "Thank you, Master."

Fuck, that went right to Keith's cock.

As soon as he could, Keith worked in a third finger, and started to spread those as well.  Shiro had said he rarely got far in his nights out, which meant it had probably been a while.  Even with enforced relaxation, Keith wanted to make sure there would be no pain. Only glorious, wonderful pleasure.

Finally, when Shiro was ready, Keith slicked himself up as well, then lined up.  He rubbed the head of his cock against Shiro's stretched hole, letting it catch the rim, but never push in.  "Let me hear you," he ordered, then snapped his hips, sliding in deep.

Shiro howled.  His head fell back and his fingers scraped against the fabric of the couch.  The thigh still pressed to Keith's side wrapped around him again, trying to shove him in further.  Shiro threw his head back, exposing that gorgeous neck again.

Keith stretched out, pushing both of Shiro's knees against his chest so he could lay the length of him and still press in.  Then he rocked forward in little circles, just to watch Shiro's mouth fall open and his eyes glaze over.

"That's right," he murmured encouragingly, activating the thrall once more.  "I know that look. You're not thinking about anything but this. About my cock and how much you love it.  Feels so good, doesn't it? Filling you up, stretching you perfectly, emptying out that pretty head of yours.  Nothing else matters right now. Not work, not your worries. Nothing but me, you, and how you feel."

"Nothing," Shiro murmured, blinking dazedly like he usually did for the heavy thrall.  Keith hadn't turned it up that high, not close, but he was encouraging mindlessness. The haze that had shone in Shiro's eyes previously deepened, until it was like when Shiro had blown him last week.  Eager and blank. "Empty. M-master."

"That's right," Keith said, smiling wider.  He pulled out slowly, then forced himself to re-enter at the same, controlled speed.  He had to grind his teeth to do it, but watching Shiro's mouth fall open and his eyes roll back was worth it.  "Just pleasure, now, Puppy. You don't have to be anything but my eager, obedient boy. Just listen and feel, nothing else."  An impish thought occurred to him, and Keith's heart pounded from arousal. "This is what I mean when I call you Puppy. This is where you should be.  This version of you is who I'm talking to. You can just obey and feel so, so good when you do, like earlier. Like right now."

"M'Puppy," Shiro repeated, slurred from how his mouth hung open.  His eyes were utterly glazed over now, and he rocked and clenched around every slow thrust.  "Yes. Obey. Feels good."

Maybe this was impulsive, but so was every damn thing about this.  Keith didn't want to take it back, not when Shiro was moaning so happily under him.  "Good boy. Good Puppy."

Then, as a reward, Keith started to fuck.

Shiro went wild under him.  His fingers grabbed onto Keith's back, his natural hand scraping down hard enough to actually leave marks.  He panted, mouth hanging open, and keened every time Keith bottomed out inside of him. "Yes, yes! Please, more.  Master, please, I need it. I need it forever."

Grinding his teeth harder, Keith continued to thrust in, with a hint more power than a human could have kept up for so long.  Shiro seemed to love it, getting even louder. Enough that Keith leaned up to kiss him, just enough to muffle the worst of the noise before the neighbors actually complained to the landlord.

When Keith pulled back, he stared over Shiro's face.  He looked utterly different from the confident facade of last week, or the nervous honesty of earlier.  That Shiro would have cringed to be such a mess - hair everywhere, eyes rolling, sweaty and flushed, mouth wet and swollen.  But he didn't care about that right now. He didn't worry. He only felt pleasure.

"What's my name?" Keith asked, just to hear it one more time.

"Master," Shiro replied immediately. "Master,  _ Master. _  Please--"

Keith wrapped his hand around Shiro's cock.  "Come for me, Puppy." And as he pumped, he leaned forward and finally sank his teeth into Shiro's neck, taking one deep gulp of blood.

Shiro came.  Hard.

His voice caught completely, cracking and then failing entirely as his whole body tensed.  His cock spurted into Keith's hand, several long streaks that spilled out of his palm and onto Shiro's stomach.  And his hole clenched tight, squeezing deliciously warm and hungrily around Keith's cock.

Between that and the flood of warm blood in his mouth, Keith could only come as well.

Pulling back, Keith lapped over Shiro's neck, encouraging the puncture marks to heal over.  Then, slowly, he backed up, not pulling out but checking in on how Shiro was faring.

Shiro laid utterly limp, his chest working hard and his eyes on the ceiling.  Slowly, his gaze dragged down to Keith, and he gave a wide, easy smile.

Keith's heart clenched.  He reached up to cup Shiro's cheek, only to realize it was the hand still dripping with come.  He froze just before he could press it to Shiro's face.

Reaching up, Shiro gently took hold of Keith's wrist and pulled the hand closer.  Then he lapped delicately over the palm, cleaning off all the come.

Inside Shiro, Keith's cock twitched, trying desperately to get hard again despite coming less than five minutes ago.  The arousal felt like a punch to the stomach from the sheer intensity.

"You're perfect," Keith breathed, replacing his palm with his mouth.  Shiro licked the inside of that too, with just as much relish. "You're too damn perfect."

Shiro only smiled, accepting the compliment with a simplicity that his more awake self wouldn't have been able to.  "Thank you, Master. You're perfect, too."

Brushing Shiro's bangs out of his face, Keith looked him over, expression sobering. "I'm going to tell you something and give you an order, but you won't remember it after.  Understand?"

"I understand."  A hint of curiosity entered Shiro's expression, but he was mostly just calm and accepting.

"When you leave here tomorrow, then you're not going to be able to remember exactly where I live.  And you won't remember that I bit you, either. Everything else is going to be seem perfectly normal and easy.  Even if things seem a little weird, in the moment they felt good and natural, and you don't need to worry beyond that, okay?"

Shiro blinked slowly, processing that.  "Okay," he answered. A frown flickered across his face, like he was having trouble maintaining it.  "How will I find you again?"

"I'm going to leave my number in your phone," Keith said, the plan crystallizing as he spoke.  "You'll only remember the details when you're like this. When you're thinking like my Puppy. But you'll know, deep inside.  And if you want to do it again, you'll see that number. If you don't, you won't see it at all. That's very important. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master."  Shiro settled right back down, apparently content now that he knew he could contact Keith again.  He yawned wide enough to pop his jaw, then smiled up at him. "I understand."

"Good boy.  You're so good for me."  Keith kissed him again, then carded his fingers through Shiro's hair.  "I'm going to pull out now. You can just relax. Let each brush of my fingers make you feel safe and sleepy.  No need for those worries to creep back in. They'll keep until the morning. You're going to have a very good night's sleep.  In the morning, you can leave if you want, or you can stay."

"Mmm."  Shiro's eyes slid closed, and he leaned into each touch just like his nickname.  "Okay."

Keith kissed his cheek, smiling.  "Good night, Shiro." There was an answering murmur as Keith pulled out, wincing at the wet sound and cold air on his cock.  Shiro twitched, but otherwise continued to relax back into the couch.

Once he was sure Shiro was out, Keith rearranged the pillows so his head was supported, then retrieved a couple of his softest, warmest blankets.  He tucked Shiro in, then looked over his face.

"I hope you come back," he murmured.  Yes, this was what Shiro had been looking for, but Keith had gone far beyond hazing his head and getting a blowjob.  Hopefully it was more pleasure, but it was more complicated too.

It was too weird to try and tell Shiro what was going on.  How was he supposed to explain he was a half-vampire who had been using his special hypnosis to make the sex extra great and make him forget he was drinking his blood?  Of course Shiro wouldn't understand. That was way too weird and messed up. Dangerous, too. Even if most people in the world didn't believe Shiro, it only took once lucky hunter to hear, then Keith was going to end up on the wrong end of a sharp piece of wood.

Shiro got what he wanted, and so did Keith.  And if he didn't like it, he didn't have to come back.

That was the best they were going to get.

Keith took one last look, taking in Shiro's relaxed, sleeping face.  He brushed the tip of one finger over Shiro's bottom lip, and watched it curve into a tiny smile.

Heart clenching, Keith shook his head.  Then he walked into his bedroom, leaving the door open so he'd hear if Shiro needed anything.  Then he pulled on some pants and pulled out his laptop to work.

***

Keith actually dozed for part of the night, mostly out of exhaustion over fucking and then worrying about Shiro.

So it was a surprise when he blinked his eyes open and found his laptop next to him on the bed and the apartment smelling like burning.

Sitting up all at once, Keith scrambled out of his bedroom, heart pounding.  Was there a fire? Was Shiro hurt? "What's going on?"

In the little kitchen, Shiro stood there, just as naked as when he'd fallen asleep.  There was still a little trail of dried come and lube down one thigh, but it didn't seem to bother him at all.  He looked up guiltily and offered a sheepish grin. "Hi. Sorry. You were asleep still and I saw you had some eggs in the fridge.  I thought it would be nice to make breakfast in bed for you. It, uh... didn't go to plan." He frowned at the decidedly burnt eggs in the pan.  "I got distracted."

Keith's eyes flickered to the stove dials.  Reaching over, he turned it from medium high to off.  Okay, Shiro might be an angel in bed and the most handsome man Keith had ever seen, but he apparently did have at least one flaw.  "It's fine," he said. "I appreciate the thought. How are you feeling?"

"Great.  Amazing. You're a miracle."  Shiro beamed, straightening up.  His shoulders were loose and relaxed, and his eyes practically sparkled.  It was a totally new side of the man, and one Keith enjoyed a lot.

Just-got-laid was a good look on Shiro.

Relaxing, Keith smiled back.  He'd spent all last night worrying, but right now he couldn't manage.  Not when Shiro looked like he wanted to skip (naked) through the apartment.  "Well, not even a miracle can save those eggs, I think. But you look like you need a shower."

Shiro's cheeks went pink, but he only continued to grin at Keith's tease.  "You know, if you liked me you'd at least try them." He shifted the pan teasingly toward Keith, which made the entire, sad pile of burnt egg slide around.  "Or maybe not. I don’t want you to poison yourself. Yeah, a shower would be nice. I have to meet someone for lunch, but I have a little while." He gave Keith a sly look through his bangs.  "But in the interest of saving time, we could share the shower."

Laughing, Keith wrapped a hand around Shiro's neck to pull him in for a kiss.  "Cute."

"Cute again?  Dammit, I'm at least going for impish."

"I still like cute."  He kissed Shiro again, then let go.  "If you're feeling rushed, then yes, we can share one.  If you want, go ahead and get it running. It takes a minute for the water to heat up in this building."

Shiro snapped off a quick salute, which looked extra ridiculous given his lack of clothing.  Chuckling, he started for the bedroom.

"Hey, Shiro?"

"Hm?" Shiro glanced over his shoulder.  From the back, the remains of last night were extra noticeable.

Picking up the abandoned cooking fork, Keith deliberately cut off piece of the charred eggs and took a bit bite.  It tasted horrifically bitter, but he forced himself to chew and swallow.

"Wha-?"  Shiro's own words caught up to him.  He went red, beamed, and ducked his head.  "You're brave."

"Not really."

Head still ducked, Shiro scurried into the bedroom, but Keith caught sight of his beaming, bashful smile.

Feeling much better, other than the solid piece of charcoal in his stomach, Keith sauntered after.

***

Three hours after Shiro left, Keith got a text message.

_ Want to meet up for dinner on Friday? _

Keith gave himself a moment to let out a slow, relieved sigh.

_ Sure, what time? _


	3. Chapter 3

Keith was awake during the day.

Slowly chewing his way through a bowl of cereal, he eyed the afternoon sun like he might regard a bear across a field.  It was a vicious beast that would maul him if given the opportunity, but not a current, active threat. So long as he played by its rules, he would stay safe.

The reason he was awake at the damnable hour of 2 PM was entirely Shiro's fault.  The past two months had been a flurry of meeting up, hanging out, enthusiastic sex, then more hanging out.  Shiro had, on the whole, easily accepted Keith's nocturnal schedule as a personal quirk and result of setting his own hours.  However, he also had a tendency to send along texts during his day. It had started with pictures of the coffee from his work with comments that it wasn't as good as when they'd met up last, and from there had devolved into a stream-of-consciousness series of images and comments, very often of passing dogs in the street.

The texts themselves didn't actually wake Keith up, but the anticipation of getting them roused him early  So Keith's sleep schedule, which hadn't answered to anyone in years, started to shift. Which was why Keith was up at the same time as the sun, peeved mostly at himself for being so trainable.

Keith's hours weren't the only thing Shiro had managed to accidentally change.  One quiet, casual invitation was all it took to pull Keith from his years-long isolationism.  He'd gone along to a movie night with several of Shiro's friends. Maybe he'd spent the whole time quiet and just nursed one beer, but it had been nice.  It gave him an excuse to curl against Shiro in a dark room, which was fine with him. 

Keith suspected that Shiro's friends had regarded him as a date rather than a fuck buddy, but Shiro hadn't made a fuss, so he hadn't either.  They'd otherwise been friendly, if loud. By the end, he'd been exhausted from meeting so many new people, but he had to admit it had been a good time.

Once chance meeting at a bar.  One impulsive decision to drink from the tall, pretty guy.  And Keith's whole life had changed.

Worst of all, Keith couldn't even say he minded.  He wasn't hungry anymore, for one. He topped off before his stomach could even rumble, and he didn't have to take more than a sip at a time.  Shiro definitely knew that Keith was a biter, but the wounds were so small and healed so fast that there was no way to realize he was losing blood.

But that wasn't the real benefit.  It was nice, but what Keith really liked was just Shiro.  Bad cooking, dumb jokes, and nerdery included. 

Keith drained the last of the milk from his bowl and sighed, then checked his phone.  There had been no texts since he woke up, which was unusual. Work sometimes kept Shiro busy, but today was a day off, and that usually meant a deluge of texts and photos.  There hadn't been a single picture of a dog being walked in over two hours.

For a moment, Keith considered sending a text of his own to ask if something was wrong.  But that was absolutely ridiculous. Clingy, even. So what if Shiro got caught up in his chores for a couple of hours?  Really, it gave Keith a break from the constant dinging from his phone.

The reason Keith didn't mind the constant influx was what it meant.  It showed that Shiro was thinking about him during the day. Even if it was just 'Keith would find this amusing', it was a sign that he occupied Shiro's thoughts just as much as the opposite.

Forcing himself to put down the phone, Keith washed up his bowl and put it away.  Then he ducked back into his room, where the curtains were thicker, and pulled out his laptop.  If he was awake, he might as well get some work done.

Keith managed about an hour of focus, chipping away at his work on creating transcripts for videos.  It was, as usual, mind numbing work. His latest client was a small college that was making a selection of their lectures publicly available, and they needed transcripts for subtitles and readers.  The work was at least helpful, but Keith had to relisten to the clips constantly to make sure he had the wording exactly right. When some of the videos were almost 45 minutes, it made for a long-term project.  

A break came when his phone finally buzzed and chirped, signaling a text.  Keith snatched up his phone with embarrassing speed, glad no one was around to see how pathetic he'd become.

_ 'Mk as ter a wake?' _

....What?

Keith's brow furrowed as he tried to make heads or tails of that text.  Shiro pulled out acronyms when he was in a hurry, but usually Keith at least could guess at what they meant.  

Before he could even ask, another text came in.

_ 'Heavt andngood.  Sleep' _

No, that still didn't make sense.  Keith frowned, then finally typed out his reply.   _ 'Are you butt texting?' _

_ 'No Master' _

Keith went still, surprised at the address.  Shiro never used it when he was fully awake. He suspected that Shiro knew about the term, since Keith had never made an effort to make sure he forgot.  But it went unspoken.

Which meant that Shiro was in a trance.  How had that happened? Keith had added a couple of triggers to help Shiro haze out faster, but he usually relied on actively using his thrall and the name 'Puppy'.  Unless Shiro had been running errands with other vampires, Keith had no idea how this had happened.  _ 'Where are you?' _

' _ Downstairs can I come upp?' _

What?  Keith shot to his feet, heart pounding.  Shiro was here?  _ 'Of course.  The door is unlocked.' _

He had enough time to close his laptop and put it back away when the door opened.  Keith stepped out into the living room just in time to see Shiro start to peel off his clothes with the same casual ease he might take off his shoes and jacket indoors.

Despite his confusion, Keith felt heat bubble up in his stomach.  Having Shiro show up at his door, already tranced out and half-naked, was a delicious treat.  So he settled back against the couch to watch as Shiro stepped out of his pants and folded them, adding them to the neat pile with his turtleneck. 

When Shiro looked up, he caught sight of Keith, and his whole face lit up.  "Master," he greeted, with the same ease that he'd just undressed. He set aside his folded clothes on the coffee table, then stepped forward to wrap his arms around Keith and nuzzle into his neck.  "Missed you."

"You saw me two days ago," Keith pointed out, though he smiled as he said it.

"Still missed you."  Shiro seemed to relax just by proximity to Keith.  Or maybe that was the thrall. Either way. "Wanted to talk to you earlier, but I knew you'd be asleep."

Keith smoothed his hands up and down Shiro's bare back and kissed his temple.  He didn't bother to hide his smile. It was always nice to hear how much Shiro wanted to spend time around him.  They were still classified as Friends with Benefits, but Keith suspected they were both in a little deeper than that.

Guilt pricked the inside of Keith's chest, just for a moment.  As much as he'd like to push them into something more than fuck buddies, that would involve letting Shiro even deeper into Keith's life.  It would mean talking about his mother and his uncles, about his childhood and his life.

All the little details that could eventually add up into something that Keith couldn't whisper away in the morning after.

Ignoring that for now, Keith pulled back to cup under Shiro's chin.  "Not that I'm not happy to see you too, but what set you off, Puppy? You're not supposed to get this way on your own."

Shiro's eyes fluttered.  "Didn't mean to. I dropped off a book at the library, and they had another I was looking at.  I sat down to read it, and..." One hand came up, slowly tracing over his own neck. The pads of his fingers roamed over faded marks from a previous nights together.  "I wore a turtleneck today, and it kept brushing. I get so sensitive there, and I kept thinking about your mouth and your hands, until..." His hand dropped to his side, eyelids fluttering.

What?  That wasn't supposed to happen.  Hadn't Keith made it so only his touch would set Shiro off?  He distinctly remembered that their first night at his apartment.

Except, no.  He'd made it so no other person could put Shiro in a trance, because he hadn't wanted it to accidentally happen at work.  He hadn't at all worried about scarves or turtlenecks.

Maybe he should have.

"Poor Puppy," Keith murmured, just a hint teasing.  He replaced Shiro's hand with his own, delicately circling the faded marks.  If they were typical love marks they should have been gone by morning, but breaking the skin and taking a mouthful of blood caused a bit more damage.  Shiro didn't seem to mind, considering the way he shuddered and gasped. "Did you get all hot and bothered at the library without me?"

Shiro rocked against Keith's hip.  "Your fault," he muttered, playfully petulant.  "I was just reading and then I couldn't concentrate at all.  I just wanted to feel you. Kept imagining your teeth on my neck and your fingers inside me.  It wasn't a fair fight."

Snickering, Keith kissed him.  "I'm very sorry for your struggle.  I promise to make it up to you, how about that?"

"Acceptable."

Deep in the thrall and still sassing him.  Keith shook his head, but didn't bother to hide his smile at all.  Neither did Shiro, who grinned into the next kiss. "You're ridiculous.  Why don't you go get ready for me? I'll join you in a minute."

Shiro nodded.  "Yeah, that sounds good.  Maybe after we can talk about my dinner, your... breakfast?"

"If it takes that long. You're feeling optimistic."  He gave Shiro a squeeze on the ass, ignoring his toothy grin.  "Go on, then."

Shiro snapped off a deeply sarcastic salute, then started for Keith's bedroom.  Being nude was normal for him, but the sway to his hips and shoulders was not -- that was him being a tease.

Keith would have to get back at him later.  Once he got over how stupidly, ridiculously hot it was that Shiro had accidentally falling into a thrall just because of his shirt rubbing against his hickies.  How he must have been sitting there in the library, trying to concentrate but just slipping further and further into trance.

Wait.

Library.  Then here.

...Had Shiro  _ driven _ in this state?

Oh, hell.  Keith hoped not.  They'd never put any safeguards into a trance, because Keith had never expected Shiro to be under the thrall when he wasn't around to cause it.  Maybe that had been an oversight.

Well, it had gone alright now.  It was dangerous, in the same way tipsy driving was dangerous, but the library wasn't far from Keith's apartment.  Maybe Shiro had just walked. If not, Keith would talk to him about it and make sure next time he got a ride instead.

Rolling his shoulders, Keith stretched his arms out behind him, giving Shiro time to get settled.  He could hear the drawer open and close, then the slick noises of lube. From his angle by the couch, he couldn't see his bed, but he could see the winter hat that Shiro had left behind on the coffee table last time he was here.  He could see where the pillows of his love seat had been pushed all to one side, so Shiro could sit sideways in it and enjoy the natural light from the windows. Drying next to the sink was the giraffe mug that Shiro adored, and had become 'his' in Keith's mind.

The tiny ways that Shiro had really begun to make a home in Keith's life, where he'd been happily solitary for so long.

Keith spent a few minutes just looking around, letting the fondness warm his chest like a cup of hot tea.  Then he finally followed, pausing at the door frame to look inside.

Shiro was sprawled out on Keith's bed, his legs spread wide.  One hand slid under his thigh, helping to hold himself open, while three fingers pressed inside.  The moved smoothly, shining with lube and pistoning in and out. Shiro, however, made no move to do more than stretch himself.  His eyes were on the ceiling, heavily lidded, and his lips were parted. Every few moments they twitched, like he was starting to mouth something, and then they went still again.  He didn't seem to notice Keith's entrance.

Beautiful.  Dutiful.

All Keith's.

Stepping over, Keith sat down on the side of his bed, watching from a better vantage point.  Shiro's eyes didn't move, but his fingers picked up the pace.

"How are you doing?" Keith asked, smoothing a hand up and down Shiro's bare thigh.

Shiro's eyes fluttered, rolling back briefly.  When he focused again, it was finally on Keith.  "Good. Very good."

"What are you thinking?"

A hint of extra color crept over Shiro's cheeks.  "That I didn't have to worry, just get ready like you told me.  Because listening to you means I don't have to think, and the less I think, the better it feels.  The better I feel, the more I want to listen, and more I listen the less I think, and the better I feel, and the more I want to..." He trailed off, eyes glazing over.  "Less... Better..." Shiro's voice got softer, slower. Slurred, like he was tired.

Keith pushed his bangs out of his face, enjoying the dazed look on Shiro's face.  He was so peaceful now, flush with pleasure. Not a worry on his mind except for what Keith asked of him and how he would be rewarded.  "So good for me. Do you remember how good boys feel, Puppy?"

_ "Good." _

"That's right."  Keith cupped Shiro's jaw, tilting his head up gently.  He went with absolutely no resistance, pliant and soft.

So far gone.  So deep.

Shiro had to remember moments like this.  Keith had never asked him to forget, and he'd never expressed significant memory loss after their first night together.  It wasn't even the thrall, not really. Maybe that was the seed that let Shiro get started, but this was all him. Just his words, his pleasure, and Keith's will. 

Well, that and two months of being thralled, and then being deeply intimate with the feeling of a trance.  If Shiro was able to drop from wearing a turtleneck, he could probably put himself in a trance in minutes if he wanted to.

Keith had never asked how Shiro processed these moments.  He hadn't wanted to poke the hornet's nest and bring it up, not if Shiro might have questions how it had started.  Shiro seemed perfectly happy with it as it was, so why make waves?

No, Keith would much rather reward Shiro.

Leaning down, Keith kissed over Shiro's lips, delving down between the parted lips.  At first there was no reaction, and then Shiro gave a long, desperate moan. He leaned up into the touch, but neither of his hands moved from where he was prepping himself.  "Master," he muttered, breathing the name into Keith's mouth.

"How relaxed are you?"  Keith pulled away, trailing kisses down Shiro's neck and his bare chest.  As he went, Shiro squirmed, trying to push up to the touch. But his hands continued to dutifully work himself, barely even changing pace.

Shiro's breath came out in a long, shaky gust.  "Very. All the way." Then, after a beat, "more before you did that."

Looking up, Keith considered Shiro.  Then he took hold of the pistoning fingers and guided them in farther, angling them to brush Shiro's prostate.

Jolting, Shiro's legs spread wider, and his toes curled in front pleasure.  "Ah! Master!"

It was so tempting to do it again, to keep teasing Shiro with his own hand.  But Keith hadn't gotten Shiro to deepen his trance just to ruin it by drawing him back out of his head.  So instead he stepped around the bed, then slid between Shiro's spread thighs. He let go of the hand, which went right back to what it had been doing, and instead started to rub up and down Shiro's flanks.  "It feels so good already, does it? You're so relaxed, you're thinking so little, you're listening so well."

"Yes!"  Shiro arched up, nearly presenting his chest as he sinuously unraveled.   

"You must feel this so well, then," Keith continued on, merciless as he caught Shiro's eyes.  "Your whole body must feel so good, like how sensitive your neck gets. Each touch feels more powerful the deeper you are, the more you listen."  He curled his nails and and slowly scraped them down Shiro's thighs.

This time, there were no words.  Just a keen as Shiro's mouth fell open.  The hand holding him open jerked, like he tried to move it away to touch Keith in return, but it wouldn't move.  Keith had told him to get ready, and that meant doing exactly what he had been.

Taking pity on him, Keith took hold of that hand and pulled it away, then kissed over the palm.  As soon as he let go, Shiro's hand landed on his neck and shoulder, the metal easily spanning nearly the entire width.  He clutched hard, eyes bright with desperation despite the hazy sheen. Keith leaned into the touch, tilting his head to catch the hand between his chin and shoulder.   Despite being the prosthesis, it still felt so warm against his cheek.

Satisfied, Keith took hold of Shiro's knees and pushed them up to his chest, until his feet rested just over his head.  Then he put the hand back, as well as removed the other. "I'm going to lock these in place here. With you wide and exposed like a good boy.  They're going to be tied into place, so if they start to hurt, you tell me right away. Understood?"

"Yes," Shiro breathed.  His eyes were wide and awed, and his cock twitched against his stomach.  Clearly, he enjoyed the idea. 

Smiling, Keith squeezed Shiro behind the knee.  "Tied down here." When he pulled his hand away, the legs didn't move at all, from a mixture of Shiro holding them and just locking his muscles.  Then he reached up and gripped both ankles, squeezing those too. "Tied to the bed. Is it uncomfortable?"

Shiro breathed heavily and shook his head hard.  He watched Keith from the window between his parted legs.  Between his glazed eyes and flushed cheeks, it was hard to tell the difference between arousal and pain.  He'd have to rely on Shiro speaking up if there was an issue, but that's what commands were for. "No, Master.  It feels good. I like this." The words seemed to fall from his lips without meaning to say them, but he made no attempt to take them back.  He was just honest and open, enjoying behind bound for Keith's use.

"Such a good Puppy," Keith breathed, smiling at him.  His own cock throbbed in his sweatpants, egging him on to really enjoy Shiro in this state.  When he let go, it took a second to make sure Shiro would hold, and that he wasn't going to hurt.  Then he eagerly pushed his pants and underwear off.

It was tempting to just fuck in and start to use Shiro, especially when his expression practically begged him too.  But instead Keith pressed kisses to the exposed inner thighs, nuzzling against the soft skin. He felt the beat of Shiro's pulse just below the skin from the femoral artery.  His fangs slid out, and his stomach rolled with another kind of hunger. The two were so tangled by now, all heated fluid exchange, all tied to this man below him.

Rather than bite down just yet, though, Keith pressed his head between Shiro's thick, muscled thighs.  Then he stuck his tongue out, lapping up the length of Shiro's cock.

Shiro made a throaty noise in the back of his throat and jolted.  But his lips didn't move, and therefore he couldn't buck up. He made the noise again, this time frustrated, only for it to garble when Keith licked again.

"Can't-"  Shiro's voice jumped up to a whine and his fingers dug into the soft meat of his thighs.  "Gunna... If you..."

Keith picked his head up and met Shiro's glazed eyes.  "You'll come? No, you won't."

"Master, I-"

"I didn't give you permission yet."

Shiro  _ keened,  _ his eyes rolling back.  His trapped cock drooled against his stomach, pooling on his abs and then dripping down his side to the bed.  "Yeah," he breathed. "You didn't."

Chuckling, Keith ran his hands up and down the bottom of Shiro's thighs.  He looked over the sight in front of him. Shiro, folded in half, ass up, cock hard, cheeks flushed.  Practically coming apart at the seems just because he was reminded of the power that Keith held over him.

Beautiful.

Moving in closer, Keith snagged up the lube to slick his own cock up.  Then he pressed it against Shiro's exposed ass, rocking up against the cheeks.  His cock spread them, making them part beautifully as he rubbed up against Shiro's stretched, sensitive hole.

"Yes."  Shiro's eyes lit up, greedy and eager.  He bucked his hips as much as he could manage with his legs still pinned, attempting to grind up against Keith.  "Yes, please. Master-"

"Do you like this, Puppy?"  Keith ground against the hole, enjoying how he could feel it clench needily.  

Shiro's head bobbed loosely, his eyes wide and eager.  "Yes! Feels good. Want- please. Please!"

"You like when you're head is quiet and fuzzy for me?"

"Yes."

"You like when you don't think, just listen?"

"Yes."

"You like when you're a good boy and you obey?"

"Yes!"  Shiro's shoulders and chest thrashed, and his hips gave another of those abortive ruts.  "Yes, Master, please! I want it. Feels so good. I want you so much. I want you to fuck me.  I want to feel so good I never think again. I want to be yours, completely. Please. Please!"

What could Keith do but to give Shiro what he asked for?

Pulling back, Keith lined himself, then slammed home in one sharp thrust.

Shiro stilled, his whole body tense and his eyes wide.  His mouth hung open, even his breath stopped.

Then all the tension went out of him at once, except where he was still holding his thighs up.  His eyes rolled back, and his head dropped loosely onto the bed. With his eyes closed and his lips curled into a perfect, contented smile, he looked strangely innocent.  Angelic, even.

Other than the flush on his cheeks, and his stretched, greedy hole swallowing Keith's cock.

Gritting his teeth, Keith pulled back, then slammed himself back in.  The force of his thrust made Shiro's whole body rock. Shiro's eyes snapped back open as he gasped, and the grin grew.  His eyes met Keith's, warm and adoring. Maybe even-

Keith yanked himself away from the thought.  He dropped eye contact, instead watching his cock disappear into Shiro's slick hole.  Reaching up, he renewed his grip on Shiro's ankles, helping to hold them down next to his head.  

Each thrust was just as fast, just as deep.  A human would have gotten tired of the pace quickly, but Keith never had that problem.  Instead he took in his fill of Shiro. The thigh muscles quivered, struggling to hold onto the strange position, but they never shifted.  On each pull, Shiro's hole clenched, like he was trying to hold onto Keith, or to milk him. As Keith held down Shiro's legs for him, the hands came up and smoothed down Keith's chest and sides, like Shiro was desperate for contact.

When Keith finally looked back up, Shiro's eyes were rolled up in his head again, and his lips were wet from hanging open.  He looked undone. Broken. Emptied of his worries and anxieties and filled with nothing but pleasure and cock instead.

"Tell me again," Keith rasped out, voice deep from the strain of his pace.  "Tell me what you said while you were preparing yourself."

Shiro turned his fogged over eyes to Keith.  "When I obey Master, I don't think. When I don't think, I relax more.  When I relax more, I feel better. When I feel better, I want to obey Master."

"Are you obeying?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel good?"

Rather than answer, Shiro gave a strangled moan.  His head rocked from side to side, like he couldn't contain the sensation.  Each movement was limp, fluid, like a sleepwalker.

"I want to hear you.  Do you feel good?"

Shiro groaned again.  "Yes, Master."

Grinning at him, Keith bottomed out into Shiro's ass and ground down, like he was trying to reach even deeper into his hole.  "Do you want to come?"

Shiro licked his lips.  "No."

The unexpected answer made Keith still.  "Why not?"

Those hazy, unfocused eyes found Keith's face.  "Because you haven't told me to yet. I don't want to until you tell me to."

Arousal spiked through Keith.  He bent double, whole body curling in as he came hard, deep inside of Shiro.  The force of it shuddered through his whole body, forcing the breath from his chest.

When Keith finally unwound himself, Shiro was still watching.  But now he was smiling, back to warm and awed. He looked honestly thrilled just to watch Keith come inside of him, even while he waited for his own pleasure.

It was so tempting to reward him now, but another thought occurred to Keith.  So instead he slowly pulled out, letting his cock pull free of the red, slick hole.  Slowly, giving Shiro warning, Keith let go of one thigh, then the other.

He slid the pointer fingers of both hands into Shiro's hole.  They went in easily, the stretch, lube, and come combining to make him utterly pliant.  Then, Keith pulled his used hole open.

Several drops of Keith's come drooled out.

Ducking his head down, Keith licked a stripe up, catching the drips and spearing into Shiro's hole.  His tongue curled up, scraping against the walls.

"F-fu..."  Shiro's whole body went tight again, his walls and hole clamping down on Keith's tongue.  "Master, please. Master-"

Keith pulled back suddenly, breathless from the shear strain in Shiro's voice.  But despite how red his cock was, despite the sheer amount of precome on his stomach, despite the desperate color to his cheeks, Shiro didn't come.

Keith scooted back several inches, hands up in the air as if to prove he wasn't touching Shiro anymore.

"Come."

Shiro did.

His cock spurted, coating over his chest and stomach.  Shiro curled in on himself, hips rising even further into the air and head bowed.  After several seconds, he went as limp as he could again, breathing heavily.

All from a word.  No touch, nothing inside.  Just the power of Keith's command.

Fuck, Keith loved Shiro so damn-

Wait.

Oh, no.  Oh boy.

Ignoring that with all his might, Keith rubbed Shiro's thighs.  "Release now, Puppy. You've been so good for me. Let them down slowly, be gentle to yourself."  Keith helped Shiro straighten his legs back out, murmuring praise and encouragement the whole way.  It wasn't really necessary - other than a couple of grunts, Shiro didn't seem affected. But it made him feel better anyway, after how long Shiro had held the pose.

Once he was settled again, Keith flopped down next to him and cupped Shiro's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Shiro replied, smiling back.  One arm wound around Keith's waist. "Very good.  Relaxed. Thank you, Master."

"No, thank you.  You were so good."  Keith leaned up to kiss him.  "Do you have anything else you need to do this afternoon or tonight?"

Shiro considered, blinking slowly as he struggled to access that information in his current state.  "No. Nothing. Just you."

"Good."  Keith tapped on Shiro's shoulder.  "Let's get you comfortable, then. Want to take off your arm?"

Grunting his agreement, Shiro pressed on a button on the side of his prosthesis and tugged.  The whole thing came free, revealing a couple more inches of arm before it cut short. Shiro held it out without blinking, and Keith obligingly set it on the bedside table.  

Once he was sure it was safely balanced and wasn't going to fall off and scare them during a nap (again), Keith settled in next to him and gave Shiro a kiss.  "Better?"

"No," Shiro replied, a hint of a sulk to his voice.  "That was the arm I was holding you with."

Chuckling, Keith pecked the tip of his nose.  "Want me to switch sides?"

"Yes."

Keith made a show of climbing over Shiro, huffing like he was a difficult mountain.  When he finally settled back down, Shiro flipped over and draped his left arm over Keith instead. 

Smiling, Shiro pressed his face into Keith's neck.  He started to lazily mouth at the flesh, more like a curious impulse than a plea for more.

"I should get us something to eat," Keith said.  He frowned down at his pants, where his cell phone sat uselessly in his pocket.  "We'll order something."

Shiro grunted his approval, then finally settled back down.  When they were lined up like this, Shiro's head on Keith's shoulder, then Keith's feet only came to his thighs.  It gave the illusion that Keith was over a foot shorter, rather than just several inches.

Wiggling his toes, Keith jabbed his feet into Shiro's legs.  "You're too tall."

"Sorry about that."  Shiro took a deep breath, then picked his head up.  He blinked several times in a row, and each time he looked a little more aware.  "Mmph. We need something for waking me up better."

It was the first time Shiro had ever mentioned their game so explicitly.  Keith stilled, surprised, then nodded. "I was thinking about that. More safeguards in general.  Did you drive here after the library?"

"Yeah."  Shiro sighed. "Not my best moment.  To be fair, it was hardly worse than a couple of glasses of wine.  If it was alcohol, I would have been legal. And you're barely a five minute drive away."

"Even so.  Don't do that again, okay?"  Keith sighed and rubbed up and down Shiro's back.  "We should say that again when you're under to be sure it sticks."

Shiro nodded, even as he leaned more heavily into Keith's side.  "Yeah, good plan. That, and a trigger to wake me up. Can you do something for a sudden drop?"

A laugh burst out of Keith.  "Have you been doing research?"

"Maybe."  Shiro looked up and smiled sheepishly.  "I googled 'my boyfriend makes me sleepy and obedient, how the fuck does he keep doing that.'  Or something like it, anyway."

Keith's heart stilled, then picked up even faster.  "Boyfriend?"

"Easier to type."  Shiro watched him through his lashes, like he was testing the excuse.

There was a conversation to be had there, but Keith wanted to chase the current one first.  He still wasn't even sure where he stood on the subject, so stalling sounded like a good idea.  "I could do that, yeah. I haven't done anything instant, but there's a couple things hidden away."

"Yeah?" Shiro pushed himself up on his one forearm.  "Like what?"

"Do you really want to know?  I'll tell you, but then you'll know it's coming."

Shiro's lips pressed thin as he thought about it.  "You said there's a couple?"

Keith nodded.

"Tell me one.  I want to get a general idea."

Reasonable enough.  Keith considered. "The name 'Puppy'.  It gets you hazy, but only a little bit.  More each time."

Even just the first use made Shiro's eyes glaze.  He took a deep breath, like he was taking in brisk morning air to wake himself.  "Oh. So, in a subtle way."

"Mhmm.  We never really - I wasn't taking it too seriously.  So we didn't really give boundaries. You could have always said no, I made sure of that, but..."  Keith shrugged. "It's okay, right?"

"Boundaries would probably be smart," Shiro admitted, though he sounded reluctant.  "But I like it. I've liked all of it. If I didn't I would have told you to cut it out in the first week.  It didn't take me long to realize I wasn't behaving normally, and that maybe the fuzziness in my head had something to do with it.  I worried for a minute, but you never had the opportunity to dose me with something. You were just... persuasive in a weird way." Shiro's lips quirked up.  "So I trusted Google."

Keith gently brushed Shiro's bangs back.  "Well, good. I thought so, but it's good to hear.  I should have asked."

"Probably, but I'm not complaining."  Shiro's cheeks went red. "I like the idea of you just... leaving stuff in my head.  It's kind of dangerous. Like fucking on your balcony window or in an alley. I like that you get me to do stuff I like but that I'd normally talk myself out of.  I like that you bring out my recklessness. I used to be that way, but not for a long while."

Swallowing hard, Keith forced himself to nod, rather than look at where Shiro's arm used to be.  He didn't know that was the cause. More likely it was anxiety and a soul-crushing job that required high security clearance.

"I can do more.  After we talk." Keith cupped Shiro's cheek, then pulled him in for a soft kiss.  "And after we eat. What do you want?"

Shiro grunted and shrugged one shoulder.  "I'm not really picky."

"Chinese work, then?"

When he got another affirmative grunt, Keith reluctantly scooted himself down the bed until he could hook his toes around his sweatpants.  Then he pulled out his phone and dialed the number on memory, ordering double his usual, before flopping right back down. "Delivery in 30, they said.  We can rest until then."

"Good."  Shiro went right back to wrapping himself around Keith.  His fingers skated over Keith's ribs, too light to even tickle.  He traced the faint impression of the rib cage like he was just idly following the plains of Keith's body.

Smiling, Keith wrapped himself around Shiro in turn.  He curled his fingers in, idly running up and down the dip of his spine.  His fingers hit a few raised, rough lines, stopping the movement short.

Before he could apologize, Shiro looked up, lips quirked.  "You finally going to ask?"

"About the scars?"  Keith winced. "I actually kind of did. The first night at the club.  But you went still, so I dropped it."

"Ah."  Shiro sighed.  "That does make sense."  He hesitated, cheek pulled in like he was biting the inside.  "Did you want to know?"

Keith's stomach flipped, because yes. Yes, he did.  But what right did he have to Shiro's secrets, when his own were protected at all costs?  "If you want to talk about it."

Brows up, Shiro stared.

Keith met his gaze head on, jaw set.  He wanted Shiro to tell him voluntarily.  He probably could have gotten it out of him while he was under, or through the thrall, or just by asking more than once.  That wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted was-

He wanted Shiro's trust.

He just didn't want to offer his own in return.

Shit.

Finally, Shiro nodded and fell back, so his head was on the pillow.  His hand rested on his stomach, tapping an idle beat. Then he looked over.  "You haven't asked what I did in the Air Force, either."

"I assumed they were related.  You implied that much." Keith turned his head to face Shiro.  There was less than half a foot between their faces, so he could see the little details - how the scar over Shiro's nose was ropy and uneven, and there was another, faint line of white over his chin.  The flecks of brown in his eyes that glowed when they caught the light just right, like his irises were made of amber. His long eyelashes, pale as the rest of his hair.

Most of all, the easy relaxation on his face.  Shiro was comfortable and calm here, relieved of the burdens he normally wore like a weighted coat.

Keith had done that.  He was proud of that. But it was built on a foundation of lies.

Shiro nodded.  "I did." He paused again, gaze distant as he picked the right words.  "I was a fighter pilot. I flew-- well, the kind of missions you got away from too fast to see the results of.  Usually, the big worries are mechanical failure or anti-aircraft artillery. That day we were fine. We all landed, we got home, nothing to report.  But..." He swallowed hard, still looking through Keith rather than at him. "I don't know how they knew. Maybe they caught someone and broke them, maybe they intercepted some communications. But they knew where we'd land.  And they were ready."

Watching him carefully, Keith slowly reached out and put his hand over Shiro's.  "Someone attacked?"

"Not the way you're thinking."  Shiro gave a bland smile. "They planted bombs and then set them off.  I imagine what they wanted was to damage the planes, but getting the pilots was a really good bonus."  Flipping his hand over, Shiro laced their fingers together. "I'm lucky I lived. No idea how. I was just in the right place, I guess.  But I was thrown off my feet and stunned. That's where a lot of this is from." Shiro used his stump to gesture to his chest. "The rest is because they grabbed me while I was down.  Amputated my arm when it was too damaged to heal properly, then kept me for ransom and information. In the meantime, they got their entertainment out of me."

Keith's stomach dropped.  His fingers tightened around Shiro's hand.  It took all he had to keep himself under control and not crush the fingers.  "Entertainment?"

"Yeah, I--" Shiro paused, looking over Keith's face.  "They had us fight each other. Blood sport. Or they'd just kick us around a bit.  That's what I mean."

It was terrible, to be relieved at that.  Keith hated it. He wanted to find whoever had hurt Shiro and rip their limbs off one at a time.  But there were worse options, too. So Keith just nodded and continued to hold Shiro's hand.

"So that's it," Shiro said, voice eerily casual considering the topic.  "There was a raid. Some covert ops thing. I was released, spent some time in the hospital, and discharged.  Vet employment options aren't the best, but my company headhunted me. I already had the right security clearance, and I had a degree in engineering from the Academy.  It seemed perfect."

Keith scooted over, a touch slower than usual just to make sure Shiro saw his every move.  Then he gave him a gentle peck on the cheek. "You deserved perfect. Still do. You really should apply to a better job."  Shiro only hummed noncommittally. "Thank you for telling me."

"It's not a big deal.  I knew I was going to tell you eventually.  You handled the curiosity well." Shiro shrugged and gave him a smile.  It was warm, but there was still some tightness around his eyes. "Besides, you've done more to help me deal with it than anyone but the therapist they made me see.  I like your methods a lot better, too."

"You would."  Keith grinned and kissed him properly.  "I'm glad. I know that's the point, for you."

Shiro frowned and turned over onto his side, facing Keith full on.  "That's not true. The point is that I like spending time with you, and I like our sex too. Even if we stopped all the..."  He rolled his hand between them. "Trace whatever, I'd still be here. If we stopped having sex at all I'd still stay with you.  If you wanted."

Despite his casual tone, Shiro's eyes were anything but.  They locked onto Keith, wary and shuttered.

This was a confession.

Keith's stomach twisted and rolled.  The fingers of his free hand curled, aching to reach out and brush the skin on Shiro's jaw.

Decision time.

Either Keith had to keep this casual, or he had to come clean.  But he wasn't sure either of them could even pretend this was nothing but sex.  Shiro probably didn't want to anymore.

"I- yes.  Same." Wincing, Keith swallowed hard.  "This isn't just sex or friends with benefits for me either.  But if we're going to be... not that, then I think we need to talk."

Shiro's eyes widened and roamed over his face.  "Yeah. Yes, I agree. We should. Boundaries, for one."

"Not just that."  Keith's hands shook until he tensed hard enough to still them.  "About me. Something personal you should know. Then you can decide, okay?"

Nodding slowly, Shiro licked his lips.  "Okay. Yes. Over dinner? I'm going to be honest, I don't really know what you could say that could change my feelings on the subject."

Yes, well, Shiro didn't have the background knowledge to even make a guess. 

"Over dinner," Keith agreed, ignoring the icy dread in his stomach.  "Let's wash up. The delivery guy will be here soon, and as much as I love seeing you messy and naked, I don't want to share it."

"That's news.  I'll let the balcony voyeurs know the deal's off."  Shiro grinned, relaxing. He pushed himself up again, then suddenly ducked down for a kiss.  "Hey. Thank you. For listening and for... for feeling the same, I guess."

A laugh burst out of Keith.  "You're thanking me for liking you?"

"Yes?"  Shiro smiled back sheepishly.  "That sounds bad. I'm going to shower."

"Thank you for liking me too," Keith called after him, fondness overtaking his nerves for at least the moment.

Shiro groaned.  "Yeah, it sounds really bad."  He ducked into the bathroom, and the shower started up. 

It was tempting to try and join him, but now wasn't the time.  Both because of what he was about to tell Shiro, and because the delivery person would be there in about ten minutes.

So instead, Keith sat up and arched his back until his spine cracked.  Then a thought struck. "Hey, Shiro? Remember to put on clothes before the food shows up."

"Why would I wear-?"  Shiro paused, as his own logic caught up to him.  The bathroom door opened, and Shiro stuck his head out.  "That was the other trigger."

"I forgot that one.  There's at least three."

"You got me to..."  Shiro closed his eyes and leaned against the door frame.  "I didn't notice at all. It wasn't weird. That's- Jesus, Keith."

"Bad?"

"No.  Good. Very good."  Shiro bit his bottom lip and looked Keith over.  "You know, if we're fast...."

Keith sighed.  "None of us are that young, not when we just came.  Go get clean. After dinner." Assuming their conversation wasn't a disaster.

Shiro stuck out his bottom lip.  "Fine." He closed the door again, and Keith could only barely hear the muffled groan.  "Didn't even notice."

Staring at the closed door, Keith swallowed hard.

Then he pulled over his pants to get ready.

***

Keith tucked himself comfortably against Shiro's side, twirling the chop sticks into his lo mein.  He picked out a piece of beef and popped it into his mouth, chewing contentedly.

Shiro leaned back into him, comfortable and at ease despite the looming talk.  He had put on a pair of sweatpants for the occasion, and he had one bare foot on the coffee table, just inches from knocking off one of the containers of fried rice.

Both of them were content to eat, at least for the moment.  It was still only 5 PM, which meant Keith had only had his breakfast a few hours ago.  But they'd certainly worked up an appetite together in the meantime.

Eventually, Shiro put aside his container and pinched the fabric of the sweatpants.  He pulled them taut, then let them fall back down.

"Something wrong?" Keith asked around a mouthful of noodles.

Shiro shook his head.  "Not wrong. Just thinking."  He looked over at Keith and smiled.  "I'm sitting here, wearing sweatpants and literally nothing else. Not even underwear.  But I feel overdressed, like I'm wearing a full suit. I know that's ridiculous, but it's still in my head.  I can't shake it, like a nagging instinct."

Huh.  Keith swallowed and licked his lips.  "Is it uncomfortable? You can take them off."

"No, not uncomfortable.  I'm just aware that I should be naked."  Shiro shook his head, but his lips were quirked up.  "It's amazing, really. But I should probably wear pants for whatever discussion it is you want to have, anyway."

Keith's brows arched up.  "We were naked for yours."

"Yeah, well, that was pillow talk.  Bad, not-sexy pillow talk, but..." Shiro shifted, curling his legs under him and turning to face Keith.  "You're nervous about this. I think even more than I was. You ready to talk?"

"I am."  Keith took a deep breath, and then another.  "Yeah. I'm ready." He put his food and chopsticks down, then matched Shiro's posture.  "This is going to sound weird."

Shiro picked up one of the pillows and held it to his chest.  "Okay." He nudged his knee against Keith's thigh. "Hey, come on.  Is there a problem?"

Groaning, Keith rubbed the base of his palms against his eyes, pushing until he saw spots.  "No. I mean, maybe? That's up to you." He looked up again. "What I'm about to say is going to sound like I'm making something up, or like I'm loopy or something.  Neither is true. So please keep an open mind."

"I can do that."  Shiro tightened his grip on his pillow.  "You're really starting to make me nervous, Keith.  What's wrong?"

"I'm a vampire."

Shiro stared.  His brow slowly furrowed together. 

Wincing, Keith resisted the urge to look away.  "Well, half vampire. My mom is. My dad wasn't."  He crossed his arms, suddenly not sure what else to do with them.

"Okay," Shiro said, drawing out the word.  "This is like... something online? A subculture thing?  I don't understand."

Keith really wished it was.  It would make it at least understandable and would have kept him from so deep into trouble.  "No. I was born in 1891. After puberty, I stopped aging as fast, maybe at all by this point.  My mother is far older and she's still alive, as are the other vampires she knows." 

Shiro continued to stare.  He shook his head slowly. "I... Keith."

"I know!  I know this sounds crazy."  Keith's hands went to his hair, tugging hard before he made himself go.  He had to explain this. He had to make sure Shiro really knew the full story, or else he was never going to be able to manage.  "It's true, though. I'm up all night because the sun hurts me. I can manage with a shitton of sunblock, but it still sucks. I need blood to live.  That's why I was there that night when we-" He winced and cut himself off.

Shiro let out a bark of laughter that sounded more like a cough. "The night we met?  You were going to drink my blood? That's- how's that even supposed to work? A knife or something?"

Looking up, Keith met Shiro's eyes full on.  Then he opened his mouth and let his fangs slide out all the way.

"Holy fuc-"  Shiro jolted, so hard he had to catch himself before he fell off the couch.  All the blood drained from his face as he stared at the prominent canine teeth.  "How...? Those weren't there before. I would have noticed."

Keith winced again, curling in tighter on himself.  His heart pounded in his chest, fearful in a way he'd never experienced before.  This relationship with Shiro was so good. Shiro was so good. He didn't want to lose him.  But he couldn't hide this, or else it would be so much worse later. "I hide them, usually. And other times you... you forgot."

Shiro went utterly still.

Slowly, he started to shake his head again.  "No. Keith- I would remember. I would. And... you're not cold.  You're not that pale. A little, but not vampire pale. You have a heartbeat!"

"Half vampire," Keith said.  "I'm a little cold. I hover at about 90 degrees.  But it's not so bad that most people notice. It seems I got more of the human than the vampire.  I'm a little stronger and a little faster, but not that much. Really, I got more of the downsides than the upsides."  He hesitated, then added, "except for the thrall."

Shiro's hand shook.  He clenched it hard and tucked it into his lap, hiding it.  "The thrall," he repeated tonelessly.

"It's a hunting technique," Keith admitted.  His voice pitched up, no matter how hard he tried to keep it level.  "I don't think vampires evolved, really. I'd guess it's more like a transferable disease.  But this lets us get someone alone and keep them from fighting back. Then they can go back to their lives after, totally unaware except for the weird bruise on their neck."

Immediately, Shiro's hand snapped to his own neck.  There was only a shadow of green there, but the implication was clear.

"That's what you've been doing?" Shiro asked.  He shifted, bracing his feet on the couch like he was about to jump away.  "Matt said... he teased me for the bruise when I got home. I thought it was weird, but I didn't... I wasn't drunk off of two drinks, was I?"

"No," Keith said quietly.  "You weren't."

"You-"  Shiro finally stood up, jerky and sudden.  He glanced back at Keith, then started to pace in front of the coffee table.  "You drank my blood and made me forget. Made me think I embarrassed myself by getting utterly wasted with a guy."

It was true, so Keith could only wince.

Shiro made a choked noise and shook his head hard.  "And the blowjob was, what? A bonus? Do you usually do that with all your meals?"

"No, actually."  Keith stood as well, fists clenched tight at his side.  He watched Shiro prowl back and forth like a caged animal.  "But I don't ask what you do with your exes."

Whirling on him, Shiro bared his teeth.  "This isn't some ex! These are people you mind controlled into letting you drain their blood, then made them forget, Keith!  That's a little different, don't you think?"

Stomach rolling, Keith looked away.  "I don't usually. I didn't plan it with you, either.  But the dancing had been fun, and you seemed to want it.  So I figured it was harmless. I told myself it sold the lie."

"Oh, good, so long as it sold the lie!"  Shiro took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  It took him several moments to talk again. "How much of my attraction to you was real?"

"All of it," Keith replied instantly.  "I never touched that."

"Would you tell me the truth?"

"Yes!"  Keith's breathing picked up, and his heart clenched hard.  "Yes, I'm being honest with you. That's why I'm saying this all now."

Shiro stared, jaw set.  "And if I don't like it, you'll make me forget?"

Eyes wide, Keith shook his head.  "No. No! Shiro, please, you know I wouldn't-"

"I don't know anything!"  Shiro threw up his arm, eyes still wild.  "Because apparently I forgot that you were drinking my fucking blood and telling me I was just drunk.  How many times has this happened? What else did I forget?"

Crossing his arms again, Keith took a deep breath.  He could lie now. He could say it was only a few times as he needed to live.  But Shiro would find out eventually, and then it would ruin everything. "At least once a week."

Shiro stepped back, eyes wide. " Jesus," he breathed.  "You..." His eyes closed. "What else did I forget?"

"My address, that first night," Keith admitted.  "You saw a photo of my mom and me from the 30s I forgot to put away.  Mostly my drinking. And the sex stuff."

"The sex stuff," Shiro repeated back flatly.

Keith took a deep breath, desperation taking hold.  If he could just convince Shiro this wasn't a big deal.  "You knew you were forgetting some things before," he pointed out.  "It's not that different from before."

Shiro's lips drew back furiously.  "It's different. It's a lot different.  The stuff I was looking up? It has rules.  I could wake up. I could shake it off. It was kind of a weird sex thing, and that was it.  Now you're telling me you have mind control superpowers you were using to edit my brain! That wasn't you feeding me an induction, Keith!  You snapped your fingers and I never had a say!"

Shifting from foot to foot, Keith looked at his feet.  "Not all the time. A lot of it was regular hypnosis. And I made sure you could say no.  I swear, Shiro, I did that specifically. I never wanted to make you do something you didn't actually do."

"When?  That first night?"

Keith winced again.  "No, the second one."

"Fuck."  Shiro started to pace again, hand combing through his hair.  "Fuck! What did you tell me to do?"

Keith watched him for a moment, then closed his eyes.  "Give me a minute. I want to make sure I get them all."  He started from recently and went back. "Today wasn't... When you went under at the library.  That was because of a trigger from the thrall. I told you playing with your neck would feel good, and it would put you into a deeper trance.  It made sure you wouldn't panic or feel pain while I was feeding. Struggling too hard could hurt you, and if I was getting something out of it, I wanted you to enjoy it too."

"Great.  Thanks. Appreciate it."

Swallowing hard, Keith pushed on.  "That was it today. The past two times, actually.  Since we started your mantras, I used the thrall for feeding, not for anything else.  Maybe I'd use it for just a second to help you take the first step, but nothing other than that."

Shiro paused and turned to face him. "There is a difference, then.  What is it?"

"Degree, usually."  Keith considered his words carefully.  "The thrall can be very very light. Just enough to give my words a little extra weight. Or it can be totally overwhelming and completely control a person.  I've never used that kind before. That's why I go to clubs. The people are already willing to talk in a dark corner or duck into a bathroom. The overwhelming kind is dangerous.  It's noticeable. When a person starts to struggle and has to be overcome, it hurts. Even if not, they're hazy after. They have trouble concentrating, their coordination sucks."

"They act drunk," Shiro said, expression grim.

Keith nodded.  "Yeah. Regular hypnosis can be used to get someone to act against their will, but it takes a long time.  You have to condition them. The thrall, when used heavily, jumps past that. Otherwise it just makes someone a little suggestible.  Make them more likely to go dancing. Make them hazy and happy. There's usually not a reason to go beyond that."

Shiro's gaze didn't flicker.  His jaw tightened. "Go back to what you made me do."

Right.  "Usually it was forgetting," Keith replied.  "But earlier it was all of the hypnosis. Usually just enough to haze you. That's where most of your triggers came from.  Your neck was more sensitive -- that was from the first night. You'd obey orders, the way you do now. You were rewarded for that obedience.  You let go of your worries. Playing with your hair or calling you Puppy would make you fall back under the thrall. You had trouble concentrating, like with the telescope that second night.  And you agreed to dance, then go outside. You called me Master." 

Shiro covered his eyes with his hand and laughed.  "I- fuck, I really never noticed. I've never called anyone that.  I thought it was weird. Until you. The name just came out when we fucked the second time, and I never questioned it."  His shoulders curled in. "I never questioned a damn thing. What else?"

"You forgot my address for a little while," Keith admitted.  "When I brought you home. Just in case you figured it out and wanted to stake me or something.  If you didn't want to see me again, you wouldn't have seen my contact in your phone."

Shiro jolted.  "Fuck. Even at home?  I would have... Fuck!" 

Keith wracked his brain, trying to think of anything else.  He went back that second date, then through their meeting, and-

Oh.

This was... this was going to sound bad.

"One more.  Last one." Keith took a deep breath.  His eyes prickled hotly as he took in Shiro.  "I made you want what I wanted."

Shiro went utterly still.  Then, slowly, he straightened himself up.  "Excuse me?"

"Just the first night.  And as soon as it wasn't a one time thing, I made sure you could say no."  Keith held up both hands, heart pounding furiously. Shiro's stillness made the hairs on his neck rise, even knowing his own strength and speed.  "I swear. I swear to you, Shiro."

"But the alley blowjob happened before that."  Shiro's jaw worked, his eyes burning. "Then you told me I could say no to anything I didn’t like.  But you made me want anything you wanted. So I would never say no."

Keith's stomach dropped to the ground.  It was a connection he'd never made. He'd never looked for loopholes in his own commands, content to believe they'd be followed.  He'd never had to use so many that they could interact with each other that way. "Shiro-"

"No!"  Shiro backed away from him.  "You- Everything! From the first day!  I liked doing what you wanted. I wanted that you wanted me.  And that's from you!"

Keith shook his head.  "No, that's not what-"

"Yes, that's what!"  Shiro's shoulders rose.  "I can't trust any of this now!  Do you understand that, Keith? All of it, every bit, could have been from you!  I don't know what I've wanted, because you already told me to want it!"

Heat built behind Keith's eyes.  He sat down heavily, hands in his lap.  "That's not what I meant to do."

"No, you just meant to mind control me into being a blood bag and a hot mouth to f-fuck."  Shiro's voice cracked. He shook his head, then let out a bitter, horrible laugh. "The worst part?  That still doesn't sound so bad. And I can't tell if that's you or me."

Keith's throat tightened.  "I never meant that, Shiro.  I swear. I just liked you, and I wanted to keep helping you.  I thought it made you happy."

"So did I."  The tension went out of Shiro all at once.  He stood there, on the other side of the room, shoulders limp and head down like he was about to collapse.

Keith swallowed against the lump in his throat.  "I could break all the previous thrall commands," he said.  "It would just take a minute. Then we can decide what to do from there."

"Or I blink and forget, and you ask me to start eating Chinese food again," Shiro said.  It wasn't even accusatory. It was just tired. "And I just have to trust that you didn't leave some out."

Trust.

Not an hour ago, Shiro had trusted Keith. Opened up about something that clearly weighed on him.  Bared his heart.

Keith had done the same.  But he couldn't pretend the situations were equal.  Shiro's secret was only his own. If Keith hadn't used the thrall, maybe.  But he'd given into temptation, time and time again. This was the end result.

Shiro shook his head slowly, then harder.  "I think... I think I should go. I think I need some space for a little while."

There it was.

The words drove through Keith, just as painful as the stories he'd heard about being staked.  "Oh," he said, the only thing he could force out.

"Yeah," Shiro said.  He rubbed a hand over his face.  "Yeah. I'll call when I'm ready.  If I'm ready. But I need to sort out my own head.  I need to figure out what's me and what's you."

It wasn't an unreasonable request.  It wasn't even nearly as final as Keith could have expected.  The fact that Shiro was even suggesting future communication was stunning.

But it still hurt.

No more dog texts.  No more Shiro sleeping in his bed while Keith worked.  No more dark jokes, no more burnt breakfasts.

No more Shiro.

"I'll wait for you," Keith said.  "Just let me know."

Shiro nodded slowly.  "Yeah. Okay. I'm going to get my stuff."  He grabbed his folded clothes off the love seat and stalked into the bedroom.  It shut heavily. With finality.

Or maybe Keith was projecting.

He sat there, feeling like his limbs were too heavy to move.  He wanted to be upset, to have the right words to fix this, to answer Shiro's accusation with anger and indignation.

He couldn't.  Keith had done this to both of them.  If he could go back, he'd- well. Keith wouldn't say anything earlier.  But he'd be more thoughtful. He'd consider Shiro's consent more carefully.  He'd throw around the thrall less and introduce standard hypnosis earlier. He'd be less greedy, wouldn't take meals just because Shiro was right there and he could without consequence.

Above all, Keith would have been more thoughtful.  Wake-up triggers, safeguards against emergencies. Anything at all that would have showed more consideration for Shiro as a person.  Not just 'this is fun for both of us.' He would have thought things through.

When he door opened, Shiro was fully dressed.  He stared at Keith, hand on the door frame. "I suppose this is goodbye."

Keith's flinched.  "Yeah. For now, maybe.  Unless... you don't have to. Whatever you want."

All he got was a bitter laugh.  Because that was the problem, wasn't it?

Shaking his head, Shiro started for the door.

"Wait!"  Keith stood up.  "Sorry. Just- I didn't say I'm sorry.  I am, Shiro. I really, truly didn't want to hurt you.  But I have. I understand if you never call, but if I can help, I want to."

Shiro's hand remained on the door.  Then, slowly, he nodded. "Thank you for saying that.  I--" He glanced back, meeting Keith's eyes again.

There was pain, affection, and horror all wrapped into one.

Keith could see Shiro's broken heart in that look.

Then Shiro turned away and stepped out.  The door closed gently behind him.

Keith stood in his living room alone. The coffee table was still covered in food for two, and the giraffe mug was still drying on the rack.

He was alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Keith was awake at 3 PM.   
  
The training video played on his computer, a cheery narrator woman happily explaining to him the process of logging into a cash register.  Keith should have been taking notes and timestamps, but he let it play in the background. Instead, his eyes were on his phone.   
  
It was honestly creepy how many times Keith had read back over his text messages with Shiro over the past four weeks.  At least once a day he scanned through, presumably just for the joy of making his stomach turn inside out. When he really wanted to punish himself, he went through message by message, remembering how he'd felt during each moment.   
  
Remembering his stupid, naive happiness before his own mistakes came back to bite him.   
  
The last text was the one of Shiro asking for permission to come up.  The one where he'd gone under in public because Keith was too careless to worry about anything but what he wanted in the moment.  The one where he'd realized the full danger of what he'd exposed Shiro to, and what had finally lead him to fully confess.   
  
It had been stupid.  All of it had just been a horrible series of mistakes.  Everything except choosing Shiro in the first place. Keith didn't regret that.   
  
Latest on the mistake train was that Keith was still sitting here, in the same apartment as before, going on as if nothing had changed.  Worse, he hadn't dared to tell his mother or his uncles what he'd done. Shiro knew what he was capable of, knew he could hurt even when he didn't mean to, knew he hunted innocent humans for their blood and left them boneless and dazed wherever they were.  Now that he had the knowledge that vampires were real, it would be easy enough to find a hunter, too. Find someone who would take care of the threat once and for all.   
  
Keith had completely uprooted his life for far smaller information breeches than this.   
  
But he couldn't.  He just couldn't bring himself to sound the alarm.  Even after all he'd done, Keith couldn't imagine Shiro calling someone else to take him out.  It wasn't in him. If Shiro really decided that Keith needed to be put down, then it was more likely he'd buy up a stake and a head of garlic and go out and do the deed himself.   
  
At least then Keith would get to see him again.   
  
...Alright, he was being dramatic.   
  
Sighing, Keith turned off his phone and started on the training video again.  This time, he pulled up a document and started to actually take notes, typing along with the introduction with appropriate time stamps.   
  
That lasted about five minutes before Keith groaned and shoved the whole laptop out of his lap.   
  
Breakfast.  Breakfast would help.   
  
Keith's stomach rolled, the first signs of real hunger.  He'd gone far longer without finding a meal before, but Shiro had spoiled him.  He'd been getting a sip every few days, and he'd let himself forgot how distracting and uncomfortable hunger felt.   
  
That was easy enough to solve, but Keith had never been so reluctant.  Finding a new meal that matched his standards had always been a difficult, but now the thought was utterly unappetizing.     
  
There was only one person he wanted.   
  
Well, Keith had a month and change to get over himself before his hunger got desperate.  If he hadn't by then, well... then he'd figure something out.   
  
Stepping out into the living room, Keith shot a disdainful look at the sunshine.  He drew up the hood on his jacket as he passed the windows, as if he could banish the sun through the sheer power of his mood.  Then he poured himself a cup of coffee, ignoring the vanilla creamer still sitting in his fridge. As he leaned against the counter, he cast his gaze over the kitchen, idly searching for anything to wake himself up a bit more.   
  
The giraffe mug still sat on the drying rack.   
  
Keith swallowed a too-big mouthful of hot coffee.  It traveled down and settled like a hot coal in his stomach.     
  
Stepping over, Keith picked up the mug and turned it around. He didn't even remember where he'd gotten this, just that it had been sitting in his cabinet for years. He suspected one of his uncles had given it to him after a trip. Probably Ulaz, if anyone. The cup itself was colored like a giraffe's spots, with the handle acting as the long neck. A tiny head was attached to the top, sticking out over the edge of the rim. That addition was why Keith had never used it himself -- he always managed to nudge his cheek against it while drinking. It also made it hell to store without taking up too much space. But it was a gift, and he'd never brought himself to get rid of it.   
  
Then Shiro had found it, shoved in the very back corner of the cabinet. He'd immediately been amused by the whimsical design, and then more so by Keith bitching.   
  
"Well, clearly this mug needs some love," Shiro had said, and made it a point to use the mug each time he had coffee over. Then, in a moment of mischief, he'd pressed a kiss to the top of the little clay giraffe head.   
  
Keith stared down at the head now and scowled.   
  
He was jealous of his own stupid mug.   
  
"Get over it," Keith muttered.   
  
He should put the mug away where he wouldn't have to look at it. He was just torturing himself with this reminder, same as the text chains.   
  
But if Keith was never going to use this thing anyway, maybe he should give it to Shiro. It wasn't nearly a good enough apology, and Keith wouldn't mean it that way, but at least Shiro would get something out of this whole debacle.   
  
Or would it be too creepy? Shiro had said to leave him alone. To give him space. Sending him anything would violate that. But it was also just a mug, right?   
  
Keith could ask. Was that too much contact? Shiro had been serious about stepping away, and he should get to be the first one to reach out. But Shiro also had stuff that he'd just left at Keith's apartment. He could ask if he wanted his hat and scarf back, and just add the mug into it.   
  
Or he was being desperate.   
  
...He was definitely being desperate.   
  
It was a terrible idea. But Keith still went back to his room to retrieve his phone.   
  
Only to see the new message notification.   
  
Keith's heart jolted up into this throat as he opened it.   
  
_ 'Can we talk?' _   
  
It was from Shiro.   
  
As Keith stared, another text came in.   
  
_ 'Somewhere public.' _   
  
Ah. That was reasonable.   
  
Keith swallowed against his hope. There was no sense getting himself worked up. Shiro might want to make it clear that Keith was to stay away, or just answer some last questions before he officially ended it forever.   
  
But even so, this was a chance. And even if it wasn't, Keith was just glad to see Shiro again. The past month and change of utter silence had been painful, but even worse because he knew he'd hurt Shiro, and he hadn't been able to make it better. If he could at least give them both closure, that was more than worthwhile.   
  
_ 'Sure. Coffee near me, or somewhere else?' _   
  
The reply came almost immediately. _ 'By the bar? OK. Can you do tonight?' _   
  
Keith would have walked right outside into the unfiltered sunshine if Shiro asked, but that wasn't exactly a comforting response.  _ 'Around 8?' _ That should give Shiro time even if he was working late again tonight.   
_  
_ _ 'Perfect. I'll see you then.' _   
  
Biting his bottom lip, Keith considered what to say next, if anything. Was 'looking forward to it' creepy? Was 'see you' too meaningless?   
  
In the end, Keith just left it. Instead he checked the time. Still four and a half hours to go.   
  
Enough time to finish the current video's captions and decide what he was going to wear.   
  
Snatching up his coffee, Keith got to work.   
  
***   
  
In an effort not to be late, Keith left his apartment 30 minutes early. Since there were no freak emergencies on the walk over, he still showed up at 7:40.    
  
He was definitely here way too early, but there wasn't much use standing outside in the cold. Keith hesitated by the door, before giving in and stepping inside. He was immediately hit with the smell of coffee and old baked goods. The shop was quieter than usual, and the two baristas stood together at the corner, chatting quietly as one of them vaguely wiped over the counter.   
  
There was only one other person inside.   
  
Shiro sat at a table, both hands wrapped around a no doubt disgustingly sweet drink, still heavily bundled up against the cold. When the door chimed, he looked up, and their eyes met.   
  
Keith's heart pounded and his stomach flipped over. After a month apart, it was so, so good to see Shiro again. The shape line of his jaw, the soft gray of his eyes, the endearing way his beanie totally flattened his white bangs into his face.   
  
Gorgeous as ever. Except for the deep bags under his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders.   
  
The signs of stress that Keith had put there. Keith, and the lack of relief that Shiro had come to rely on.   
  
Shiro stood, then hesitated, clearly not sure what to do. "Hello."   
  
"Hey," Keith replied, voice gentling. He couldn't help it. Even after everything, he wanted to soothe Shiro when he was like this. He wanted to turn on the thrall, talk him down, pet through his hair until the wrinkles in his forehead smoothed out.   
  
But that was what had gotten them into this mess, and it would make Shiro run and never look back.   
  
Clearing his throat, Keith nodded. "You can stay sitting. I'll just grab something."   
  
Shiro nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over Keith's face. Despite how public this was, despite how carefully Shiro usually controlled himself, his worry and awkwardness were palpable. "Yes. Okay. Right." He sank down slowly, still watching Keith.   
  
Keith swallowed hard and turned to the baristas, who were watching the exchange with the open interest of the incredibly bored. "One black coffee, please."   
  
The brisk tone snapped them both into attention. "Right, yeah." One of them dove for the cash register to input the order, while the other turned to pour. "Small or large?"   
  
"Large."  Keith was going to need plenty of caffeine to get through this.  He paid, and kept up a very stern stare the whole time they worked.  If they were intimidated by him, hopefully they wouldn't try and listen into their private conversation.   
  
If they managed to hear something dangerous, then Keith was going to have to use his thrall.  And if he did that, he didn't know what Shiro would do. But keeping himself alive was more important than confusing a pair of baristas for a couple of minutes, especially if it rippled out to hurt his mother and uncles.   
  
Finally, he sat down across from Shiro, with only one last beady glare to the baristas.  They immediately huddled back together, speaking in low voices and probably commiserating over rude customers.  Which was fine. Better than the alternative.   
  
Shiro's eyes tracked over Keith's face again, as if taking in the details.  "Hello."   
  
"Hey."  Keith sipped at his coffee, wincing when it was far too hot.  "Um. How have you been?"   
  
"Good."  Shiro tapped his fingers against the side of the cup. Then he sighed and shook his head.  "Okay, not so good. Confused, mostly."   
  
"I'm sorry," Keith said, wishing he had better words to explain how he felt.  Sorry was for forgetting to pick up something from the store. Sorry was for knocking into something on the street.  Sorry wasn't right for 'I sucked your blood and controlled your brain while you couldn't tell'.   
  
Shiro nodded slowly.  "I know. You said. And I believe that you weren't trying to be hurtful.  I can understand why you were cautious, and neither of us really expected things to go this way.  But there was a lot of time where you could have told me about your... condition."   
  
A little bit of tension escaped Keith.  Not so much Shiro's words, but that he was being circumspect about Keith's vampirism.  It was thoughtful, even when Shiro really didn't have a reason to be. "I've never told anyone.  I hadn't even talked about it to someone who didn't have the same condition. Just letting you know about it was dangerous."   
  
Shiro's lips pressed thin, but he nodded.  "Yeah. It's a little hypocritical to expect you to tell me everything about your health, I guess."   
  
What?   
  
Keith stilled, trying to figure out what Shiro was implying.  "You have a condition like mine?"   
  
"Not like yours."  Shiro's lips quirked, but his gaze was deeply bitter.  "But I have something different about me. Something I don't usually tell people, and I hadn't gotten around to telling you about.  Nothing that would have mattered before we were officially together. But I would have told you about mine if it had the same consequences yours did."   
  
As curious as Keith was, he swallowed it back.  They could deal with that later, if there was a later to be had.  "What did you want to know?"   
  
"I don't know," Shiro admitted, leaning back in his chair.  "Everything? I don't know what to believe anymore. I don't know what's real in my own head."  His eyes flickered to the baristas again, who still didn't seem to be paying them any mind. "This is a good time to mention that there's a series of instructions I need to follow tonight.  If I miss any of them, Matt's going to come get me, and he has your address if I'm not here."   
  
Ducking his head, Keith squeezed his eyes shut.  "I understand."   
  
Shiro hesitated.  "I'm sorry. It's not to hurt you.  I just need to be sure." He waited for Keith to pick his head up.  "It took a while to even begin to sort through my head to what I wanted rather than what you wanted.  It's impossible to untangle all the way. But time made it easier. Does it fade, usually?"   
  
Biting the inside of his lip, Keith considered, then chose honesty.  "It doesn’t seem to. But I've usually only done small, short term commands.  Nothing as complex or long-lasting as yours. I wasn't reapplying very carefully either toward the end.  Your mantras and games with me did it all just as well, and it was more fun."   
  
Shaking his head, Shiro scoffed.  "Oh, good. Glad I was so good at brainwashing myself that I didn't need your help."   
  
Keith's eyes flickered once again to the baristas, just in case, before returning to Shiro.  His nails dug into the side of the cheep cup. "I'm trying to be honest with you, that's all.  I'm not making a point about anything."   
  
Shiro slowly nodded, though he still didn't look thrilled.  "Alright." He pulled off the hat and pushed his bangs off his forehead.  "You said you could take it all off?"   
  
"I think I can."   
  
Studying him, Shiro nodded.  "If you can break the... skill, can someone else?  Are other conditions real, like..." he leaned forward and lowered his voice.  “Witches and werewolves or any of those?”   
  
Keith paused, off balance.  "Um. Some. The usual ones are real, but not like they're usually described.  There are some stores that sell, ah, trinkets. One of those might be able to break the commands."  He cracked a bland smile. "I've never tried. I didn't even think about it, but it's a good idea. I’ll look into it for you.  If that doesn't work, I know others like me, but they're family. I don't know that you trust them any more than me."   
  
"Oh."  Shiro took a long sip, clearly processing.  "Does your family know about us?"   
  
"My mom does, but not in specifics.  Obviously." Keith's nose crinkled. He couldn't even imagine broaching the subject of his sex life with Krolia, especially if it involved using his thrall recreationally.   
  
Shiro barked out a laugh, loud and sudden.  Then he paused, like even he was surprised at himself.  "Why didn't you bring all this up when you told me?"   
  
"I didn't exactly plan it," Keith admitted. "I didn't decide I was going to tell you until- until you told me about your scars.  If you were being honest, I wanted to be too. And then it devolved and you were upset. I didn't know what to say to make it better."   
  
"Yeah, well, it wasn't a great situation to begin with.  Hard to make it better." Shiro tapped his fingers against the table, still studying him.  "Okay. Let's try a store."   
  
Keith blinked rapidly.  "Now?"   
  
"Would they be open now?"   
  
Shrugging, Keith shook his head.  "I have no idea. I'd have to ask around.  I never been to any of them, and it's hard to tell them apart from those weird new-agey stores that just sell crystals and yoga mats."   
  
Shiro smiled again, just a flash of amusement.  "Yeah, I can imagine. Just let me know when."   
  
Stomach rolling, Keith waited for Shiro to elaborate.  When he didn't, Keith cleared his throat. "Is there a plan for after?"   
  
"No."  Shiro tilted his head, considering him.  For a moment, his eyes were flinty, the soldier rather than the sweetheart.  "If it turns out I didn't want any of it, then we'll have words."   
  
That was only fair.  The very idea made Keith sick to his stomach.  But it was still his own fault, so he could only accept the consequences.  "And if it turns out it was what you wanted?"   
  
"Then we'll have new rules," Shiro said.  He put aside his cup and folded his hands on the table.  "Nothing about what we did was something I'd thought about before.  But it worked. I haven't been that relaxed in months. Years, probably.  And more than that, I liked being with you and talking with you. Maybe our rules will include no more of those games at all.  But unless it turns out I was completely manipulated, I'd like to keep seeing you."   
  
Shiro stood, chin up, gaze clear.  But against the table, his hands shook.   
  
He was the one hurt, but he was the one sharing his cards. Shiro was trusting Keith's word about magic and finding help, and showing his heart in the same breath. Opening himself up to the person who had manipulated him.   
  
Keith shook his head slowly. "Maybe you should wait until we're sure the- my skill is gone before you say this. I want it to be just from you. Not what I want."   
  
There was a flicker of surprise over Shiro's face. Then his whole expression softened. "I can accept that. We'll wait. But I don't think that part is going to change."   
  
"Let's be sure." Keith gave a thin, bitter smile. "I don't want to hurt you twice. Especially when I never meant to the first time."   
  
Shiro nodded and settled back in his chair. "Okay." Then he gave a tiny smile. "Well, you meant to hurt me a little. I think my neck was constantly bruised for those weeks. Why do you think I started wearing the turtleneck?"   
  
"Because you're a wimp when it comes to the cold?"   
  
"That too."   
  
Shiro smiled, and Keith smiled back. He couldn't help it, not in the face of that sunshine smile. The one that had caught him in the first place.   
  
Tapping against his neck, Shiro tilted his head. "Are you contagious?"   
  
Keith drew himself up. "Am I what?"   
  
"Contagious. Your condition. Could you give it to me through, ah, fluid exchange?" Shiro ran two fingers over his vein.   
  
Oh.  Keith's lips quirked up despite himself.  It was a reasonable question, but Keith had never had to explain this to anyone.  It was novel, and kind of cute. "It takes effort and a whole lot more fluid exchange than that."   
  
Shiro considered that.  "Have you ever infected someone?"   
  
"No, never."   
  
"Could you?"  Shiro met his eyes seriously.  "Would that make me immune to the other skills you have?"   
  
Keith stilled, stomach sinking.  "I've never tried, but I think my skill would still work.  No one's ever used it on me, but I don't see why it wouldn't.  You might be more resistant. But you really don't have to worry about it."   
  
"Worry isn't the word I'd use.  I'm asking." Shiro stared at him seriously, shoulders set.  "If that was something I wanted, would you be willing?"   
  
Shiro wanted-   
  
"Why?" Keith burst out.  "There are a couple of benefits, but for the most part it's annoying and painful.  You'll have to spend months getting used to it, and eventually you'll have to say goodbye to your loved ones."   
  
Shiro nodded calmly.  "I know. I'm just considering my options."   
  
How could Shiro be so calm?  How could he possibly ask for something like vampirism?   
  
Except-   
  
Shiro had mentioned he had a condition.  Something he hadn't told Keith about because they weren't openly dating yet.   
  
Keith's stomach sank.  Whatever Shiro had, it was something bad, wasn't it?   
  
And he hadn't known at all.   
  
How had they gone all that time without Keith noticing at all? How had Shiro managed to hide something so serious over two months when they spent so much time together? Had Shiro lied to him about it?   
  
...Which was what Shiro had been thinking, except Keith hadn't been mind controlled to forget.   
  
Keith took a deep breath, letting to of his building temper. "I could. But it would interrupt your life for a while, and it would definitely change your life. You know how nocturnal I am, and it'd be worse."   
  
"I understand. We can discuss it further, and I get it if you're not comfortable passing it on. I just want to have the full picture." Shiro softened. He reached out and rested his hand on Keith's wrist.   
  
The first time they'd touched since the fight.   
  
Keith's heart picked up. He wanted to pull Shiro in, to kiss him, to wrap himself around that warmth and never let go again. But instead he just rested his own hand on top, just as loosely.   
  
"My mom would be better to talk to," Keith said. "I'd like for you to meet her anyway, if you come back."   
  
Shiro's smile softened again. His business-like demeanor faded way. "We'll see. No plans yet." He looked over Keith's face carefully. "What do you want?"   
  
"That's a dangerous question, considering." Keith pressed his lips thin. "I'm not going to answer until we're sure it won't change anything.   
  
Shiro's smile fell. He sighed and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. You're definitely right. I just-"   
  
"I get it."   
  
Shiro swallowed hard and gave Keith a pat on the hand. "I should probably go soon. Text me when you find something out, okay?"   
  
Nodding slowly, Keith drained half his coffee in one go. Despite everything, he still felt antsy. They hadn't really resolved anything. They couldn't, not until they made sure Shiro's decisions were all his own. He was getting a second chance, an opportunity that Shiro was under no obligation to offer. Keith was happy about that, but something was missing.   
  
It wasn't until Shiro stood that the feeling crystallized.   
  
"Why?"   
  
Shiro froze, brows coming together. "Why am I leaving?"   
  
Keith shook his head. "No. Why are you here? Why are you talking to me? Why didn't you run?"   
  
"Oh." Shiro slowly sank back down in his seat. "I didn't say, did I?"   
  
"No, you didn't. So I don't understand." Keith crossed his arms over his stomach, like he could hold back his stomach from doing flips. Just asking this might make Shiro realize he was making a mistake. He might change his mind and walk out. But if it was going to happen, Keith wanted it to happen now. Not when he finally had hope again.   
  
Shiro stared down at the table, tracing idle shapes with a finger. "I didn't think I was going to, honestly. I was upset. When I left I was just hurt, but I talked to Matt in vague terms and I worked myself into a temper over it. I latched onto the lies, convinced myself you did it all on purpose."   
  
Sinking deeper into his seat, Keith fought to keep his expression neutral. Every word rocked through him like a shockwave. He could just picture it. He'd seen Shiro ranting before, in a full blown rage. Even their fight hadn't gotten to that level, thank everything.   
  
"But after that burned out, I thought more about it. I have a condition I don't tell people about. You have even better reasons to keep yours private." Shiro gave a thin smile. "I can't imagine how scared you've been the past few weeks. You trusted me, and I could have easily used that against you."   
  
Keith shook his head. "I didn't fear that. Not really. I should have. But I didn't think you'd send someone else after someone you felt was dangerous. And if you decided I needed to be put down, I think it'd be a sign I deserved it."   
  
Stilling, Shiro stared at Keith in open dismay. "You- Keith!"   
  
"It's true." Keith held up a hand to stop further arguments. "I'm not saying I want to get killed. I'm saying you're fair and responsible. You wouldn't make an extreme choice without good reason."   
  
"That's-" Shiro covered his eyes with one hand and let out a shaky breath. "That's the most terrifying thing anyone has ever said to me."   
  
Keith arched his brows. "Really, soldier?"   
  
"Yes." Shiro dropped his hand to glare, but then sighed. "Regardless. I thought about it, and I don't really like what you've been doing to people. But I understand how strong survival instincts are. I suppose if it's between taking mouthfuls and dying, it's the lesser of two evils. Clearly, the answer is to have a doner who's aware of your condition and doesn't mind offering." He gestured loosely to himself and smiled.   
  
Keith's heart went icy. "Shiro, tell me that's not why you're sitting here."   
  
Startling, Shiro shook his head. "No. No! That was a joke. I was kidding."   
  
Thank fuck. Keith sighed and scrubbed over his face. "Your dark sense of humor is going to kill me someday."   
  
"I have it on good authority that it won't," Shiro said primly. But he sobered quickly. "So I understood part of your lies. Your skills are more difficult to reconcile. Obviously I'm still having trouble with that. But I thought about it, and I was the one who came to you about it. You started it at the club, but after I was the one who wanted that again. I came to you specifically for it. And I can't argue that it's helped a lot."   
  
Keith chewed the inside of his cheek, considering. "But it was after I told you to want what I wanted."   
  
Shiro flopped back in his chair and rolled a hand between them. "Thus, the dilemma. If I ignore that, the answer is obvious. I like it. I liked every minute of it. But of course I did, because I couldn't not like it." He rolled the empty cup along the bottom edge. "I believe you wouldn't use your skills on me without me wanting it, at least not now. I went back and forth, but I don't think that's a manipulation. So all we need to do is clear up what it is that I want. That's the only question I have left."   
  
Finally, Keith settled down. "You're willing to trust me again?"   
  
"With limits, like I said." Shiro glanced at the baristas, who had gone back to cleaning up. But with how quiet it was, they might be able to overhear. "That's probably best discussed later for multiple reasons. But regular use of whatever breaks your skill would be a requirement. Just to check in."   
  
Keith gave a thin smile. "No more permanent commands, I'm guessing."   
  
Shiro's cheeks went pink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."   
  
How could Shiro possibly trust him that way again? What had Keith done to show he was worthy of that?   
  
Maybe something along the way that Keith hadn't even noticed.   
  
Or maybe Shiro had just decided to, damn everything else.   
  
Keith was still honored by it. Awed by the fragile gift he had already cracked once.   
  
This time, he swore he'd keep it safe. From himself or anyone else.   
  
"We'll discuss it then. Whatever you need, we'll make it happen."   
  
Shiro beamed, his eyes crinkling at the corner. "That. That's why I'm back."   
  
Before Keith could process that, Shiro got up and kissed him on the cheek.   
  
Slowly, Keith reached up and brushed his fingers over the spot. After everything they'd done, that shouldn't have set his heart racing. But it still did.   
  
Shiro smiled, still just inches from his ear. "Oh, and if it turns out this conversation was manipulating me somehow? I'll make you wish for mortality."   
  
Keith went stock still.   
  
He believed Shiro. Despite all Keith's advantages, he believed him.   
  
And fuck, it was somehow hot.   
  
"Text me soon." With one last smile, Shiro stepped out. Despite the still evident stress and exhaustion, he walked out with his head high and shoulders relaxed.   
  
This talk had done him a lot of good.   
  
Keith, too.   
  
***   
  
"You know, it's funny," Shiro said, eyes still on the paper in front of him.  With one hand, he made 'x's next to the list. With the other, he toyed with the new talisman around his neck.  "I think of myself as pretty adventurous. I generally like experimenting, even if I don't enjoy everything I try.  But then I look at a long list of kinks like this, and I end up crossing out so much."   
  
Keith snorted and rested his feet on the coffee table.  Shiro eyed him for it, but it was his own damn table, so he had every right.  "That's because lots of kinks are weird as shit."   
  
"Most people would say hypnotizing me to walk naked around your apartment is weird as shit."   
  
Shrugging, Keith arched a brow.  "What's your point?"   
  
"Just saying."  Shiro made a last flourished 'x', then started to look back over his list.  "This looks good. Ready to trade, now?"   
  
Keith pressed his own completed list harder into his chest.  "Maybe you should give yours another check first."   
  
Shiro stilled, then used his thumb to hold up the chain for his talisman.  "I'm wearing this and you broke the ‘want’ command. I'm fine."   
  
"Just to be sure, before my list can color your perceptions."   
  
"Keith!"  Shiro grabbed the pillow and smacked him on the thigh with it.  "I appreciate the concern. I do. But it's handled and now I can make my own choices. Which I have.  So let me see."   
  
Lips curling up, Keith offered his list and took Shiro's.  The print off had several dozen kinks, which was cut down from the huge selection Keith had found online.  He'd heard of these kinds of checklists for people who lived kink lifestyles, but it was the first time he'd actually looked one over.  It had been... intimidating, to say the least.   
  
At least Shiro was on the same page.   
  
"What are the ones that have two 'x's in the maybe column?" Keith asked.   
  
Shiro looked up from his perusal.  "Those are ones I'm not personally interested in, but that I wouldn't mind you encouraging me to be into.  On a temporary basis, at least."   
  
Starling, Keith frowned at the list.  "Oh." He looked over the list with renewed interest.  Anonymous sex had interesting applications with Keith's thrall, as did sensation play.  A few were more unique. "Alien abductions?"   
  
"You'd make a cute alien."   
  
Keith scoffed.  Loudly. Shiro only grinned at his paper.   
  
Ignoring that for the moment, Keith continued to flip through, making note of a few kinks Shiro had marked that could probably go together.  That could be fun soon, when they were ready to start up again. "Did you decide how often you want the talisman to go on?"   
  
"Ah..."  Shiro paused, tapping his fingers on the paper. "It's difficult.  I still like the idea of long term triggers I don't remember, and the talisman ruins that a bit.  But while we're adjusting, it's probably best to use it often to make sure we never accidentally break my ability to consent again.  Once a week to start? We can increase it if we need to, but I'd like to make sure nothing accidentally sticks before my work week starts.  And it gives us the whole weekend to play."   
  
Leaning over, Keith pressed their arms together.  He watched Shiro flip through the list, resting his cheek on his shoulder.  "That's fine with me. But either of us can ask for the talisman if we think something's gotten out of control.  Agreed?"   
  
"Of course."  Shiro leaned his head to the side, resting it on top of Keith's.  "We can always stop for any reason, either pausing the sex or breaking the scenario altogether."   
  
Keith nodded.  He curled his fingers around the bend in Shiro's elbow.  "What about feeding? It's not nearly as much fun for you when there's not suggestions tied to it."   
  
That made Shiro pause.  "Oh. That's a good point."  He tilted his head back as he thought about it, worrying his bottom lip in his teeth.  "Changing the physical sensations is fine. You'll be able to tell if you bit too deeply or something?"   
  
"I've never made anyone bleed out before.  But yes, I can keep track of that."   
  
Shiro arched a brow and looked down at him.  "You stuck around long enough to make sure they didn't bleed out?"   
  
That was an uncomfortably good point.  Keith swallowed hard. "I didn't hear about any strange deaths in clubs the next day, at least.  I know what I'm doing. It's been a century, I'm pretty good at it."   
  
Humming his agreement, Shiro squeezed Keith's arm in quiet apology for the blunt question.  "Okay. Then yes, but I don't want to forget about it." He hesitated for a moment, hand stilling on the paper.  "I asked before, and I don't think I got a response. Would you be comfortable turning someone if they wanted?"   
  
Keith stilled again, his grip tightening on Shiro's arm.  "How soon would this be?"   
  
"Years, maybe?"  Shiro shrugged. "Depends.  Not this weekend, certainly.  Especially if it's going to disrupt my life for months.  But someday."   
  
Taking a deep breath, Keith slowly let it go.  He wasn't sure how he felt about Shiro being turned.  He'd been born this way, and even that had caused him so many problems over the years.    
  
Did he want to subject Shiro to that? Or did he want to watch Shiro die when he didn't have to?   
  
Keith still didn't know the specifics.  But guessing from how Shiro talked about it, he wouldn’t be dying peacefully of old age.

"I'm not sure I'd want to turn you," Keith admitted.  "It's a delicate process and I've never done it. There's a possibility I'd just kill you, which defeats the purpose.  But I'm sure someone in my family could. Mom, maybe."   
  
Nodding, Shiro pressed a kiss to the top of Keith's head.  "Okay. You're my first choice, because I trust you. But if you trust them, I'm fine with that.  We have plenty of time to plan anyway."   
  
Keith closed his eyes, relaxing.  "It's not a condition of anything, but can I know why you want to be turned?"   
  
Shiro sighed into Keith's hair.  "Other than that I want to hang out with you until the heat death of the universe?"   
  
Pulling back, Keith arched his brows at him.  "Most people would just say forever."   
  
"Probably."   
  
"You're being cute to avoid the question.  It's too early after our fight to talk like that."   
  
Shiro sighed and closed his eyes.  "You could just let me be cute. Apparently you like it."  He took a moment to just breathe, then opened his eyes again.  "I will. Tonight. I want to tell you, but it's not a fun conversation.  I'd rather get through this, then maybe a practical exploration of our lists, if that’s okay."   
  
Leaning up, Keith gently kissed Shiro.  "Yeah. That's fine. Except instead of trying the list out tonight, maybe we could make dinner together?"   
  
"What?"  Shiro pulled back, eyes wide.  "You've seen my cooking. You want to eat more charcoal?"   
  
"Not particularly.  But I like that you tried.  It was cute." Keith turned and threw a leg over Shiro's lap, then pulled him in for another kiss.  "I don't want this to be all sex again. I want to spend time together in ways that aren't just getting off.  That we like doing the same things in bed is great, but what I really like is you."   
  
Shiro's eyes widened.  Then he surged forward, pressing their lips together firmly.  "I love you," he said, then swallowed Keith's gasp. "I know it's early, but I do.  That's why I came back. I love you."   
  
"I-"  Keith's voice caught.  He stared at Shiro, aware his mouth was hanging open but unable to close it.   
  
"You don't have to say it back," Shiro said, cupping his cheek.  "Really, you don't. I just wanted you to know that."   
  
Keith finally managed to get control of his face again.  "It's not that. I've just never said it to someone who wasn't family."  He swallowed hard, heart pounding. He didn't even know why. Shiro said it first.  It was true. But the words were still terrifying. "I love you too."   
  
Shiro's entire face softened.  He ran a gentle hand through Keith's hair, tucking a longer strand behind his ear.  "Good. Speaking of eating, how are you doing? Hungry?"   
  
"It'll keep.  A few weeks at least."   
  
"That's not what I asked."   
  
Keith gave a bland smile.  "A little, yeah. It only takes a couple of weeks to feel hungry again.  But I can wait until we put you under for the first time."   
  
"We can do that now, right?" Shiro asked.  "The thrall's pretty quick. Probably more so when I'm aware and willing."   
  
Well, they'd have to find that out, but the theory was sound.  "We just said we'd wait to have sex."   
  
Shiro's brows rose.  "Who said it was for sex?"   
  
Good point.  "A quick drink, then back to the list?"   
  
"Sounds good to me."  Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith and let himself fall backwards, until he was laying sideways on the couch with Keith on top.  "Let's go ahead and lay the foundation for our play, too. Makes it easier later."   
  
Keith looked down at Shiro.  His white hair splayed over the faded fabric of the couch, his eyes that soft gray.  He knew exactly what Keith was and what he could do, and he was still totally relaxed and open.   
  
Beautiful.   
  
Keith slipped his fingers under the talisman's chain.  When he tugged, Shiro lifted his head so it easily came off.  Then he placed it in Shiro's palm. "If you need it."   
  
"Hopefully not," Shiro said, but he closed his fingers anyway.  "Go for it."   
  
Leaning forward, Keith pressed their foreheads together and took a deep breath.     
  
Shiro smiled, a little nervous but mostly excited.  Keith reflected it right back.   
  
"Look into my eyes."


End file.
